as the marriage ended
he needed her to say
she wasn't the "marrying
kind" though she certainly
was the monogamous kind
the truthful kind
the loving kind
a solid partner
but she was not a
suitcase, silently by his
side with no needs of its own
she wasn't a shoe
happy to be under his foot
tossed when not needed
she spoke, she complained
she needed real love
like the kind she gave
nothing less was truly okay
& she usually didn't pretend it was
he, on the other hand, has more
lovers when he's married than single
(he's not single long enough
to risk having to live with himself)
he decides when
conversations end
he decides what may be
spoken on he decides to go
to bed even when she's
been awake over twenty hours
teary-eyed rocking their colicky baby
desperately composing lullabies
he's the "marrying kind"
ready to cage his third one
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