This is an oldie

Epigraph for the Wayward Man

If you can see the flecks in her eyes
you’ve gone too far.
When the matted hairs on her brow
make you want to clear the table
with one swipe
and make love in the sweat
and grit
you’re in too deep.
Deeper than you anticipated,
too far to turn back.

Years from now she will ask you
why you chose her,
is she really that beautiful
to make you want
only her,
and you will see the specks of
blue and green
swirled together in her irises
searching you
for honesty.
And you will remember
the first time you swept the table clean
and made your first child
under the whish
of the ceiling fan.