How could you come home with such aplomb,
with another man’s consonance, his sperm
on your breath—then kiss me with female rhymes
to prove the linguist that you really are?
A gentleman is silent about tongue worm
indiscretions, tolerates the discomfort.
Some metaphors are meant to remain secret
in a marriage. Oh, you didn’t want to wound,
or give me cause for leaving you. No spoilsport
role for you in this quatrain. Twaddle
all you want about your revisions. Remember
when you insisted I re-enact your favorite scene
in Sex and the City? Carrie Bradshaw, full of bauble,
comes to Aidan after confessing an unforgettable fuck
with Mr. Big, repeating “You have to forgive me! You have
to forgive me!" At the bottom of that New York stoop
Carrie sulked so small, so superfluous, so stuck.