The Lady or the Tiger

The room is so dusty. Yes so very dusty
Curtains once of desert hues now muted orange
Ceilings painted brown from 10,000 cigarettes
The site of ritual in such disarray now
Due to his sloth and propensity to wallow
His current wallow being that of
A cup of tea, a swirl in coffee, a picture
And an ignored email due to denial of an ago time
A time when understanding was asked for
and of commitments now part of her life
it was during the ritual that this parchment was found
asking to be let go.

But did he listen? Or really read it
Blindness seemed the best answer and the easiest to manage
After all how could he
She was ingrained in every part of him
Not just her unimaginable physical beauty
But the beauties of a heart not like any on this rock of despair

Visions of the lotus and the glide assail his senses daily
Contrasting the mustiness of his existence without her
She was part of his energies mixing with his aura
Creating a sunset of colors that would instill jealousy in any artist

The term Goddess has been used as a descriptor in eons past
This would fall short if used to describe what she is to him
So many words and so many poems,
and still he can not paint a fitting portrait

His glance switches from the picture to the email
The picture is everything to him it keeps him connected
It is the portal to yesterday and the flow valve to emotion
It is warmth, it is security, hope and desire.

The email is a plea, a closing of a door
A leave me alone to what I must do
It is finality

Two doors
the lady
or the tiger
Life and hope
Or death

The choice
Life for his sake
death for her sake

The question
Do you love her enough to make the choice?

His hand reaches for the door knob…