What am I to you now that you are no
longer what you used to be to me?
Who are we to each other now that
there is no us, now that what we once
were is divided into me and you
who are not one but two separate and
unrelated persons except for that ex-
that goes in front of the words
that used to mean me, used to mean
you, words we rarely used (husband, wife)
as when we once posed (so young and helpless)
with our hands (yours, mine) clasped on the knife
that was sinking into the tall white cake.
All that sweetness, the layers of one thing
and then another, and then one thing again.
