Tracing careful steps,

I can see you are upset.

I touch your hand,

Gentle and caring but you pull back.

My gaze tries to meet yours,

But you look away.

A tear traces a sorrowful line down your cheek,

Reaching to wipe it away you slap my hand.

Your silence echos louder than words ever could,

In typical fashion I struggle to discover what I have done.

Is it something I said, something I did?

For God’s sake I’m not a mind reader!

This dance of wills goes on and on,

Resigned to the fact that I will lose,

No give or take just a cold shoulder and I’m to blame.

Bizarre and yet comical,

Juvenile in it’s pettiness.

Looking back these squabbles always make us laugh.

Maybe I had too much to drink,

Maybe I told a story that she didn’t want me to tell,

Or maybe I forgot her birthday,

This only happened once,

Fortunately she is forgiving.

It could be attributed to male ignorance I suppose,

Does this dissolve me of blame?

Yes…until the next time.

Sadly there will be a next time,

Confident in my shortcomings,

I will take up residence in the doghouse once again.