Screaming at you on Valentine's Day or close enough not to matter When did they ever? Matter. To Us. To You. And here I am -- alone-- on the side of a road -- alone The aged, weakened, worried Mother waiting alone. Even more alone than I. Afraid For me Of me Of Us Of you Alone, again I am here, alone You responded Did you? If you did, the words were as always only words Not enough, never enough As though knowing that your Silence That bottomless, hollow, ineffable Silence was the the only appropriate concomitant to what you were doing to me to what you did to me to what you had done to me to what I Allowed every day every hour every year for so long even then. Only your ineluctable Silence could host such a Horror. So I bought a car Alone Without so much as in put without so much as ad vice from you The Husband comfortably ensconced with The Wife two days two lifetimes Away, always away on the smoky side of a mountain.