Not My Fault

It's hardly my fault
that he leaves her
wandering
along the beach at night
in her tattered wedding gown,
faded with age.
It's hardly my fault
that she cries
whenever she looks
at the paled line
around her ring finger,
the empty space stained
with the dreams
he snatched away.
And it's hardly my fault
that his feet
have retraced their steps
to the place where we met
and that he has gently lain his head
on my breast
and taken his last breath
wrapped
in my arms.


© JMariah, 2011