I want to offer you forgiveness.

I want to offer to myself,

as a gift,

my forgiveness of you.

You wrote to ask me if there was

‘anything wrong.’ After months–

years–of threats, tears, rage,

abuse, and cruelty.

Most recently

there were the stories you told

mutual friends: that your affair

was of no consequence, that there was

rot in our foundations, and she

was the cure.

That you

had extended kindness, and

patience, rather than lies

and false accusations.

After so much betrayal and dis-

honesty — things I still cannot

talk about, cannot recall,

without weeping — after

every vow has been broken,

every promise, this —this–

is your question?

Here is my reply:

I forgive you

for the things you did to me

and to yourself.

What more,

after all,

is there left to do?