You don’t look at me the way you used to
Soft eyes, like you were a bit mystified
By my approach to life
Or maybe it was my life itself
That intrigued you.
You don’t look to me the way you used to
Photographs I remember you in
A bikini I haven’t seen in a long time
And a smile that could drive a mad-man wild
I remember that as we lay.
You don’t need to look the way you used to
We’re milder, softer, settled,
Together comfortably with a purpose
A vision of family and future
That holds us tight as we say goodnight.
You don’t know me the way you used to
Now you hold my hand with intention
Setting rituals of togetherness, wholeness
And connectedness that those photographs
Never held.
You don’t look at me the way you used to
And I love the way you look to me,
Though I don’t remember much about
The young man I used to be,
I know the meaning and purpose of
The man I am to you.