Your eyes tell me more than your lips have in a month.

So maybe I'm not as handsome as I was twenty years ago,
I could have learned that truth from any mirror,
did you have to let me know through him?

Was he a better man than I?
Could his hands that caressed you
carry you as far as I have,
would they be as equally gentle with our children?
His hairless chest might be a suitable pillow for a single night,
but could it keep you warm through a dozen winters?
It was easy for him to say you were beautiful in moonlight,
in lace,
but would he have found his voice,
or your grace through the cancer?

Please don't out tonight.