Not that I can remember that clearly,
as if it were important to me,
but I think that’s how I felt when we were grinding-
and him, almost-kissing-me.
I felt that spark in my gut of winning
more than my fair share-
of breaking some rule somebody had set out for me.
It was some sort of window to the Europe
I’d been promised-
by housewives who’ve been pining for it since.
I never took myself for a housewife.
I never signed their contracts, willingly
I thought as it was happening that I knew the best way
to always keep myself free.
I didn’t, it turns out, and neither did he.
Does that make him a sucker?
Some days I want to be a sucker too.
And some days I think I’m better.
That’s the danger-
while you’re getting away with something
you never know who might be busy
getting away from you.