I do not wish to speak.

Since you died ,I’ve burned eight non-stick pans
But I have not  passed out or fallen down
I have not hung more than a photograph
Though on my solemn face I wear a frown.

Since you  died I do   not  want to eat
I put on silken camisoles that droop
As my  flesh,my body ,seem to shrink
I  tie the straps up in a knotted loop.

Since you died I wish to be with you
And yet my soul and body are alive
I  do not wish to murder my own self
Be  suicidal  widow or ex-wife.

Yet in my dreams I feel your absence bleak
And of my days I do not wish to speak.