Embraced by Mercy

Don't look at me—

unless you want the truth.

Stale smoke hung thick.

Deep in love,

but Ellie struggled—

depression bitched her out;

her shakes and sobs melted me.

At a snap,

Her voice echoed

words that drew tears,

cut to the soul,

salt on her tongue, 

stinging my pride.

What she couldn't explain,

rage took over instead,

A chandelier’s crystal

crashed into the piano.

I fixed the strings,

and played "Hold My Hand."

Ellie had a temper—

she threw dishes at me.

I’d duck, laugh;

dishes hit the wall. 

We sipped wine, ate cheese.

We loosened up

lobbing silly insults,

then professing our love.

She straddled me on the couch,

kissing me, cupping my cheeks, 

passion gleamed in her eyes.

We'd make love until

passion faded.

I stroked her long, dark hair—

the moon spilled through the blinds.

She slept soft, lids relaxed,

eyeshadow, a mess.

I kissed her forehead,

prayed for us, drifted myself.

Our lease expired that spring.

I read self-help books,

she read the Bible.

We'd find an answer.

We repaired the damage,

painting walls and each other’s faces.

Our laughter, a roar in Seattle—

years ago, that was us.

Broken wings, hearts too,

we attended therapy, 

healing wounds.

The river of avoidance grew calm.

We bought a country home, unpacked.

We looked at each other and smiled—

truth, finally—healing.

I had more than I knew.

"Hold My Hand" played on her phone.

I met her gaze.

She smiled, jumped—legs wrapped around me—

thanked me for putting up with her.

I told her I was the lucky one.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Website: https://literaryrevelations.com/2026/04/06/two-poems-by-andrew-cyr/

X: AC0040