A Tale Inspired

Don’t get me wrong.
I’m not the worrying type.
It’s just this idea,
which keeps coming back.
Am I in the middle
of a very long line?
He doesn’t look the type.
When he asked that
I should live with him,
it was pure delight
that his love
should stretch to
such a height.
And so I became
his common-law wife.
But haven’t there been others
in this man’s life?
And still don’t parts
of them linger
around this house
and don’t memories tell me
he has had other
common law spouse.
When I drink
from his mugs
I wonder whose lips
have touched
there cracked edges.
When I cook his dinner
I can’t help but think
who else has used these tools,
washed up at
the kitchen sink.
When he took me
on the river
just last week,
it was a fine evening.
Until I remembered that perhaps
I was not the first to hear
him speak these words of love.
And one day
will my feeling for him
be enough for me
to stay around.
For I am not happy
to play second best
to other ghosts
who can be found
by simply looking around.
And I will leave his home.
Another ghost.
And he will be alone.

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