You walked with a stranger
through the zoo,
risking danger
for something new.

You turned and saw
the cage door open,
felt the rage, the raw,
turn into hoping.

Inside an empty cave it flared,
we spoke of death,
no longer scared,
and drew a breath—
ensnared.

And you walked with a stranger
through the night,
risking danger,
feeling right.

[A moment passed.]

You turned and saw
the cave door open
and felt that I
was blindly groping.

What we long wanted
then intended,
you now abhorred it—
or pretended.

And then you ended it,
suspended it,
would no longer tend
nor mend it.

You walked with a stranger
down the aisle,
risking danger,
in denial.

When you turned
and saw me all alone,
did you feel your heart
turn into stone?