The brown patch on my ceiling

There's a brown patch on my ceiling,
It hurts my eyes to look at it,
And yet it will bring,
My eyes to it, always,
While I lie on my back,
Numb, unseeing, unfeeling.

No, it was not there before-
I remember seeing a rainbow
Lying on my bridal bed,
Slowly,
Drop by silent drop,
The rainbow dripped red.

Till it faded into a smudge,
The shape of my dreams,
A brown blotch that like a prey
Holds my eyes,
As night after night I enact,
A part I daily hate to play.

Enduring the grunting mass of flesh
Above me to shed its hardness
Deep into me,
Bruising something within,
Strange that the moments of love
Should be so lonely.

The brown patch on the ceiling,
A solace through blinding tears,
My companion through lonely nights,
Helping me endure and hope,
To hear and see once more,
Nearly forgotten sounds and sights.