Day Sixty-nine

Today's words:

Juice

Panther

North

Torture

Perch

Divorce

I lifted the cup of juice

To my lips and drank. You watched me like an angry panther

Your temper something north

Of simmering. You continued to torture

Me from your perch.

"I want a divorce,"

I said. "Fine, we'll divorce,"

You responded, taking a sip of juice.

You got down from your perch,

Pacing like a panther

In a cage. "But it's going to be torture

"For you to get anything out of me. Here in the North

"We do things differently." "North

"Or South, a divorce

"Is the same," I responded, "My lawyer can make your life torture

"As well." I put down the juice

And left the room, leaving you a lonely panther

On a perch.

Today I perch

On the windowsill of my home in the North

Slope. An impotent panther

You turned out to be. The divorce

Went fine. I drink a glass of juice

And think of the torture

You threatened me with. The only torture

Was in being with you in the first place. Why I chose to perch

With you still amazes me. I must have been drinking some sort of juice

That clouds the mind. And to think I had to move

North to finally know to divorce

You. You were like a stalking panther,

Waiting to pounce. But I'm a panther,

Too, and we could only torture

Each other. A divorce was inevitable.

I see all that now from my perch,

North

Of the events of the past. I pour another glass of juice

And stretch, a luxurious panther on a sunny perch.

There's no torture in the North

Slope house that I got in the divorce. I smile as I drink a glass of juice.