Atone, Thief!

you have robbed me
and of far more than monies

i count the pages i write
when you are not around

juxtapose that number
to the number i write when you are

there is a great difference

i look across café tables at empty chairs
where a beautiful woman could be sitting
if you hadn't chased them all away

and in the mornings after a night with you
i look in the mirror to see you've been taking
my life itself

right from the flash in my face
from my bones
from my eyes
from my heart

asked by you
to dance so often over the years
i was convinced it was because you loved me

now i see
you just wanted close enough to pick my pocket