I Swear I Don’t Obsess About This

My wife is sleeping with another man
Because we have not met and I
Myself am, mind my French,
Currently a fiancée
But it’s like your Christening or Bar Mitzvah
When mother brings a “you two should meet”
She brings a brace-filled vice of a mouth
She brings you a girl
But it’s the wrong one and you’ll
Never know.

I know she is eating
At a restaurant downtown
The one you would’ve taken her to
And she and not you are
Sharing their appetizers
Their froie grois and sipping wine.
She smiles and touches his leg
Under the table to remind him
Of every skin on skin.
“I love you.” but it’s too sweet
And you wish as you watch them eat
That in her eye
There would be the slightest doubt or flinch
That everything would be all wrong
And she’d never be happy again
Until you bumped into her at the bookstore.

I wonder what it feels like
For my wife
When I’m not the one doing it
Or when he passed the salt
At a family Sunday brunch.
Please let her be faking it.
Smiles holding hands and kissing making plans.

Will our tenth anniversary be
Ours or just hers and her
Husband who at the end of the
Day won’t know if it’s possible for others
To really care about their others
Or had I just been more aggressive
In my loving.

All of this I am watching and still
I want to know what
What changes in a held hand
From one to the next and I’m sure mother
It has nothing to do with
Chemistry.

My wife is sighing and admiring the pouring
Of a cup of coffee
Though none of this belongs to me
And I wonder when things are
Bought resale are they intact
And what’s my discount
Because the only person you can’t read
The mind of is the one in your arms.

When you’re the last person
She meets is it like when
No one wants to be it
Their hands sliding across the table
As they ignore the waitress and
Make keylime pie in their giddy
Sidelong glances.

I swear I’ll hit not me
Mother I’ll hit him if he
Touches her again.

And my lover sees all this in my eyes
As she kisses me open mouthed.