Well, we agreed upon an open marriage
The night he popped the question, and I see
The need for it on his side. He can’t do
A lot about it: it’s deep in his blood
To chase the girls. And it was only through
His unrestrained pursuit of girls that we
First met: I still recall his youthful carriage
The night my soul fell instantly in love
With him, a man much older than I could
Believe back then. And, anyway, I’m sure
Those little trysts don’t really mean a thing
To him. It’s me he wants the drinking of,
He tells me, and he’s not just posturing.
His lips are scarlet, but his heart is pure.
(First appeared in The Lyric, Fall 1986.)