don’t let me see her
  amble throughthe living room
  and pull aspin for no reason,
  all in slowmotion.

don’t let me see her
  tucking herhair behind her ear
  while pouringmaple syrup over her waffles.

don’t let me see her 
  looking throughthe box
  with her gradefour class picture
  with that missingtooth and grinning eyes.

don’t let me see her
  riding herold 10-speed down the open summer road
  with wavesof heat rising off the pavement.

don’t let me see
  her sandcastledissolve into the high tide.

don’t let me see
  her eyes dropas the rain won’t stop
  outside thewindow on the fall Sunday afternoon.

and don’t let me see
  the fire andpain
  and grief andsuffering
  in her eyes
  when my insensitivityreared its head
  again.

but do let me see
  her eyes lightenand soften
  and resolvedlips loosen
  and arms creeparound my neck
  once she acceptsmy amends,
  when again,
  there’s nothingin between.

Copyright 2002, StephenBuckley
08.23.02, 1230am