(In Sympathy to Mark Sanford)

Ah, but there is no certain providence
For this hopelessly impossible love
None, but a catastrophic conclusion
It does not hurt any less but much more
To keep waiting for an engaged ship
Fated never ever to dock at your quay

Quietly, we sit, habitués of this café,
Insulated from an interfering crowd
By the unsuspecting assembly itself
Bold, I come to declare all I need to
No more than necessary to reason
See me naked, bereft of my heart

I beg: Spare me this indignant silence
Weighing heavier than a spoken curse
Deeply inflaming this bedeviling regret
How can you not know: Goodbye is not
What I want to do, but what we need to?
For the last time, can’t we feign eagerness

To strike a tête-à-tête about the samba
Or your Che Guevara or Obama’s smoke
Or darkness dispelling the sun’s light
Before we quickly spew our farewell?
Or do we skip awkward preliminaries
Lest this thin resolve for parting dissolves?

And then we depart from this old café
Each of us clutching a fragmented soul
Scampering to two different continents
Then in the inner sanctum of our hearts
Let us release the tears as if in a funeral
Parting, like freedom, is its own redemption

And so without much ado, let us conclude
Our journey to each other, here, halfway
With words that bear no hint of semblance
To our whispers under the Argentinian moon
Speak! Or is your pained taciturnity your way
Of telling me, “What else is there to say?”

/ chytdaytec 28june09

Governor Sanford of South Carolina, USA wipes his tears as he publicly acknowledges his affair with an Argentinian woman. Why can't I bring myself to judge him?
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