We split up that night, both believing it was best. You, so smitten with her, it was plain to see.
My love for you could not handle your unhappiness, I had to let you go.
In the morning, the wine stains, empty bottles and me, all hollowed out.
I’m at your door, I brought freesias. You loved the scent.
Now, it’s pass the salad, the steak so tender. The wine, oh, yes!
Beyond the open door, I can see your bedroom, sunlit. The bed all neat and bright colours.
On the worktop, a wooden block full of knives—my wedding present.
