i would tell you

though i would tell you
of my life, love, and loss
my voice trails off
"i was a good wife, i loved him"
but just as the morning wipes clean
any hint of even the most recent dream
i may not have said a word
as none was heard it seems
my tongue now slow and numb
heavy and makes my speech clumsy
"they were good times, we meant them"
there was no need nor thought to invent them