The Relationship

She’s mad at me.
I apologize, which makes her madder.
I apologize for apologizing, and for not thinking to not apologize.
Now I’m in big trouble.

I apologize for my penmanship and for my gambling,
For not calling sooner or calling before I called.
She didn’t know about these things. You’ve made it
Much worse, she says.

I apologize for making it worse and for not making it even worse,
Which it seemed she wanted,
For apologizing and for not apologizing sooner and more
Genuinely or apologizing before I began to apologize.

If I have abated her anger, I apologize.
If I have stirred her up, I am truly sorry.
Now she looses it.
I beg. I apologize for begging and I apologize for apologizing

Without first asking permission to apologize – or at least beg
An apology before the fact and then apologizing afterwards.
I cannot control these things, I say. I cannot even try.
I apologize for not trying. I apologize for trying not to try.

It’s over, she says.
I plead, I say I’m sorry for even starting anything, for any beginning
I ever initiated. I know nothing, I say.
I’m sewer gas, or worse. I’m sorry for the smell. I cower in your shadow.

I want what you want; I want it to be over.
I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize. I’m sorry, I say.
She turns around. I love you, she says.
I apologize, which makes her love me even more.