Infidelities

Syllabic

We fought the end of summer

When I drove that girl home. She sat in the back seat,

Behind your passenger seat,

To the right of my driver seat, no safety belts.

 

You must remember the smooth

Of the glass between your thumb and pointer finger,

In our kitchen. The captain's

Red leg was glaring from the bottle's peeled label

Both of you snapped your heads back,

Polishing off your vices, in hypocrisy. 

 

You slur insults like children. 

You permeate adult tensions as you play-fight. 

She pulls on your necklace

From the back seat. So, you swing, useless fists, at her 

From the front seat, as I drive.

She bites your arm to a welt of darkening flesh 

And swelling toothy ridges.

You thought of her as you slipped your hand up my legs. 

 

We return home, you fall on

The small sofa so I drape a blanket over

You. I lock the deadbolt too.

 

I run off to find my friends and old bad habits. 

I am in the idle car

With him. The keys in the ignition, radio 

On low, the cracked windows fog. 

He lights crackling green crumbs into smoldering 

Coals and I blow potent smoke. 

My lungs full of indulgence and the lies I told

Like telling you I had quit.