The One That Got Away

He relished her affairs, gleefully
      plucking long blonde hairs from her
            coat shoulders. He invited her
to try men on,
            women, even, like jackets.
When they went to bars
          and clubs in the evenings, he’d stand a little bit away,
                laughing into his cocktail as she stroked
shoulders and
          more.
In bed at night he’d inhale other men’s scents,
      hidden below her perfume,
            suckling greedily
                    on her swollen
            lips for another’s taste.
She’d find pregnancy tests hidden under her pillow
        like chocolate mints— tests he’d dig up
                from the bottom
of the trash can and check for colored lines
            once she’d peed.
      She began inventing lovers, spritzing herself
                    with free-sample
cologne. She’d hide her bloodied tampons
            and fake miscarriages or abortions
    until he got frustrated with her monogamy
and her feelings.