The Door

There was a malicious twisting 

Of the doorknob, 

Here, somewhere around me 

Maybe you were opening or shutting a door, 

Or maybe, you were walking through them 

Before walking away from me, and from us

I wrenched my eyes open, 

Rubbing the bits of sleep that still clawed on them 

As my vision besought your presence 

Until my hazy lens, at last, fixated on you, 

Right by that very wooden door

You placed the freshly brewed coffee on the table, 

Instead of placing it between my fingers 

Before planting a soft peck atop my hair

I saw the faint quiver upon your lips 

As you held back the words 

That you were too afraid to let loose freely 

And letting my fingers to clasp 

Around your collar, I couldn't resist pulling you to me

Before meeting your lips

While my gaze craved to delve

In those orbs of yours,

If only you ceased looking here and there 

But never once at me 

You threw a smile on me, of course a waning one 

As you straightened your back

While your head throbbed 

With the decision that was yet to be made

And I wondered, 

Whether this was an unsaid and unseen goodbye 

Or the end of the tale of your infidelity. 

And as you inched closer to the door

I watched and wondered, 

If tonight you'd come home to me

With the same old love

Pooling in your eyes for me

Or, with her face running far and wide 

Behind those lids of yours. 

And, as the door finally clicked shut

I awaited your arrival 

Wondering who would you choose 

This time, to stay in love with, 

And seal those avowals of a forever togetherness 

With the bliss of completeness. 

And what if, you chose her? 

Then that would render me with no other way

But to walk away, right through that door

With the fragments of the trust and love

That you never failed to make of mockery of

Every time you sought for yet another chance 

Of redemption,

And to make us whole.