You hinted exquisitely that things were not right
And I had better take care if you were to be loved
On a weekend during the summer in the middle of the night.
Your rumors were better than mine.
Mine were unknown to me; you knew how to make yours
Finished—I feared you when we were alone indoors.
You made sure I gave in a little bit more to the wine.
You made sure I knew someone else could be yours.
You didn’t want my news to embarrass you; you knew you had stores
Of good will and rumor, which I was
Unable to stop, even with love.