I Covet

I covet.

That is my sin.

I feel the pangs and

electricity of jealousy

whenever I see a happy couple.

I covet their casual grace and

ease. I’m jealous of their quick

loving pecks on the cheek, hand

holding and intimacy of a thousand

little private moments.

I covet their quiet enjoyment

of each other. I’m envious of the

twinkle in their eyes as they look at

each other in some heartfelt moment

and revel in their mutual trust.

I covet their freedom from my

curse. I dream of those moments,

rapt in passion, humor, lust, desire,

the heat of some kind of love I don’t

even know that I’d recognize anymore.

I covet their innocence of passion.

I take it out on them.  I imagine their

ruination, the drunken, screaming 2:00 am fight in

front of the drive-way over some burned

waffles and a mysterious text from “Sally”.

I covet their ability to overcome whatever

scenario I imagine about them.

 I am replete with sinister grudges at the

 happiness I believe I am entitled and disappointed

because I know I am entitled to nothing.

I covet the times when I didn’t know about

loss, hurt, the pains of patience, broken hearts,

the confused anger with those that found their

complimentary person.  It is truly my sin.

I covet.