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.