Beginning to Understand

I think I’m beginning to understand her

just a little better, lying here listening to her snore,

unable to sleep because of it, it occurs to me

that she doesn’t sleep with me for my sake,

not hers;

just like she doesn’t read what I write

for me, not her, she leaves me that place

all for myself, my refuge, my home away

from home;

I’m beginning to believe she’s wiser

than I ever imagined,

that she loves me more,

much more,

than I could ever love myself.

.

.