Jane sends her hand and then pulled it away
She said, “Here’s the alternate proof that I love you”
Two magic children that smile at your name
A body that pulls like a pack mule to meet you

Tell me, dear Robert, what turns you to town
Turns you to empty your place at the table?
You prefer faces, you don’t owe a thing
You prefer feeling you perform a favor

By kissing my cheek after brushing your teeth
Boots on your feet as you sleep through the morning
Loving your children the most as you leave
Pacing your walk like a sacrifice burning

I see you smolder and fade down the road
With smoke in the kitchen, my breath on the windowpane
Show me some victory that I can achieve
A gentle communion reminds me of yesterday

Downtown at work, or wherever you go
Does holiness grow with the distance created?
My marriage was not to a martyr in flames
And martyrs don’t light up so loved ones will love them

Robert stepped back and he buttoned his shirt
The mirror revealed every stain he was hiding
Jane cleared her throat, changed her posture and said
“I miss you so much that I feel like I’m dying”