A Meal, Post Marriage

Alone,  at my breakfast table
In an otherwise empty room,  ruminating
The bitter taste her beauty held,
How that kept me in sway
And the loss of two castles
Each charming in its way
And missing them (but it wasn't a catastrophe)
Even losing her (the voice and gestures
I'd loved)
I shan't have lied, but the art
Of losing is not hard to master
Though it does look like (write it pen!)
Like disaster.