My husband used to say I didn’t

Understand him, that

I had no clue

About the mysteries of his soul

The pain he suffered in this world.

In response

I was querulous and confused

So tell me I said

Explain the working of your psyche.

He looked at me

With a glance close to hate

Sharp and critical

As if I should know that his spirit could not be

Articulated

Only inhaled

And it was clear that I was short of breath.