Eye of the Beholder

That tattered bathrobe
was the only thing she wore
but it matched her misty eyes
as she stood holding it open in my face
head thrown back
It wasn't sexy any more
and I pictured a cormorant
basking on a rock
drinking the sun with outstretched wings

The robe's green silk 
winked white toothpaste stains
all caked down one side
I thought about that
and decided it was the way her neck leaned
as she brushed her teeth each morning

You don't love me, she screamed
You don't care about my needs

I felt sick

Her long dark hair was a mess
the way I used to like it
tangled into curls after hours of steamy sex
but now for some reason
I had lost sight of all her beauty

Unseen by us both
mundane and shabby had tiptoed into our lives
and one more in the bed
meant passion had been put on hold and quenched
Everything smelt of milk

I tried not to focus on the raised mole
an inch from the crease of her thigh
She had always been shy about it
the distinguishing mark on her passport
that no-one wrote down
recorded only by me

I'd always told her it looked cute
but now she was measuring my gaze
and then higher still
those stretch marks glared
motherhood's unwanted souvenirs

You bastard
There's somebody else

She began to cry
her body crumpled into ugly
the way I knew it would
and the tears started to roll

I could never explain
there was no-one else
and she wouldn't listen anyway
so I closed the door gently behind me
and tried my best
to feel nothing
while I waited for time to heal