We meet in my office alone
not too long, just long enough

there are children to discuss
and the taxi-ing of children
to various places to various things

i do not hate him

if i can look at him, his face
and not remember any of the nights
i felt lonely when he was a few inches
away from me on the other side of a
king side bed with an ocean of differences
in between–back and forth–back and forth
lulled for a decade or so.

I promised when we met I wouldn’t write about him
and for the most part I’ve kept that promise.

he has his narrative
i have mine
they are not anywhere near each other
each still on the other end of a too large bed

one kid estranged from him
one estranged from me

we held on so very long before sinking

tomorrow we will be divorced.