Excusing My Imperfections Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

You coughed.
And that turned your brightest,
Right off.
The light within me I had for you,
Did not even dim.
It went out.
As if the wick in a candle,
Quickly melted before the wax.

I know at times I can be impossible.
Demanding to project,
How perfect I would like my life.
To live excusing my imperfections.

I know I can be severely judgemental.
And wished you clipped your toenails,
The way I want them to be.
But in my mind remains this portrait.
An image of you as my Ophelia.
And I am your Zeus.
Sweeping you off your feet.
Leaving Prince Hamlet alone at the alter.
While we both laugh as he weeps.

I want to be your sky.
Your thunder.
King of the gods of Mount Olympus.
Ruler of the Heavens.
Jupiter to your Venus.
Then visit Hamlet on Mars.
As we flaunt our love.
Taunting while he rages.
From a cage where I've installed,
Electrified titanium bars.

But...
You coughed.
Oh how that turned me right off.
Your light did not flicker or dim.
It went out.
And that image of us,
Eating banana splits...
As we zipped around the Universe.
Suddenly made me sick to my stomach.

I know I can be judgemental.
Impossible and demanding.
Excusing my imperfections.
But when you coughed.
After you clipped your toenails.
That did it for me.
You know how badly,
I wanted to rub your feet.
And lick your toes.
Knowing what it does for me.
And me to you to get 'it' done.
You can be inconsiderate.
And that means for us,
No more banana splits.
Or trips around the Universe,
For a long, long time.