What I Will Never Say to the Other Woman

You slept with my husband
under family photos,
rested on sheets
that held
my dreams,
laughed into glasses -
fogging rims
that were never meant
for your lips.

Moving into my house,
I bet you did not know
that those clay fish
small, smaller, smallest.
were named for each
one of my girls
or that the pink
metal bucket
hanging
on the outside wall
is filled with shells
and driftwood biscuits
handed to me
one find at a time,
by hands
that I love.

Sometimes I wonder how
you can you allow
your feet
to touch the butterfly rug,
the one I hauled home
one year
from TJMAXX
for $53.99. 

Isn’t it  odd,

that I know

the history of

your rug but you

don’t have a clue?

But I guess 

this does not

bother you much

You did, after all,
plant yourself
in a nest
I lined
with
trust.

Does it echo still,
I wonder?
With hushed voices -
my girls
giggling
into warm summer nights
over boys
they saw
on the boardwalk?

Do you ever try
to wipe away
my fingerprints
that linger
on each handle,
counter top, and wall.
Do you try  to
paint over 
my handiwork
only to have it 
bleed through?

You should learn that
some things
are indelible,
everlasting.

My advice to you is to
go to the beach. 
Bury your face in
romance novels
and bask
in your triumphs
under a sun
that you can
never own.
  
Now, I will tell
you something
that might disappoint you 
You did not hurt me
by taking away
what once was mine
He has that honor 
all to himself

You  could never
be that significant
to me


You hurt me only
as humanity
in general
is apt to do,
by failing 
to do the right thing.

But now, I am
all the lighter for it
and in claiming
my old prize,
you already have
what you deserve