There should be something.

Stare at him longer.
Look past his annoyingly bright hair.
Past his pity filled eyes.

Hug him tighter
Feel the little bit of muscle under his green shirt,
A green that now resembles snot.
Spots of grease never wanting to leave.

Forget about the hopeful gazes of your kids and pretend they are not there.
Maybe, maybe.
What if you nudge your lips against his?
Would it feel comforting, or lonely?

Remember the time when you first locked eyes with him.
When you barely started your new job, a different chapter.
Where he swept you off your feet,
Handing you roses that seemed to bloom in front of you.

Grip his hands and don't think about if he'd hold them like you did
When you strolled in the park with your first kid rolling and jumping happily along.
Would there be a new addition in his life?

Press your body up againts his.
Maybe you'd feel lust,
Something at least familiar.

But there is nothing.
There's nothing but a light going off
Signaling stranger, stranger, stranger.
He is not him.
There is a different glint in his eyes.
A bigger reveal in his smile.
An embrace warmer than now— its cold.

Could be from the looks your kids are sending you
Or the snow coming down outside.

There's tears. Tears signaling fear.
Fear in youself because it shouldn't be like this. How?
You clutch a li