I remember her saying he was wonderful
I remember it being a secret
I remember him breaking her heart or maybe it was her who did the breaking.
And there it was a lovely romance fallen down around her ankles.
Whole heart exposed.
They say that if you dream in Spanish you have become fluent
I think they lived there, in dreams, in Spanish
Heavy hot humid flowers hung on their words and work and music.
Quiet music hidden
You could feel the whirl wind of loss in her words and see it in her eyes
her own account sadder, introspective, while she watched his every movement, his ever faltering ways, as he escaped her.
There was begging, there was lunch with no music.
It would have been nice to say it was a bitter sweet goodbye but it was more bitter as she reminded herself “ don’t forget to breathe,” and moved on to mend within.
All the while remembering,
He was wonderful
It was a secret
And she did the breaking.