Her husband’s home most every night by 8:
a little drunk, an easy-going man.
He’s had a few with friends – he isn’t late –
he’ll help with kids or dishes if he can.
He’s 25 years older than he was
when family proposed the marriage scene.
I wonder she does not suspect, because
her husband comes home every night too clean.

He comes to her from someone else’s shower,
from someone else’s bed and goodbye kiss.
His neck is clean, his exhalation sour.
He’s gone so often she forgets to miss
the man she thought secured by time, distress
and family. That’s not his heart’s address.