I have never—nor would I ever—cheat on you.
You let a small suspicion take root in your mind, where it grew and grew and grew.
Christ said we cheat, if we cheat in our mind.
Outwardly pure, we can still be unkind.
There is no escape. If we were deaf, dumb, and blind,
Jealousy would still haunt our souls; and jealousy is so unkind.
I told you I would never sleep with her because she had fat arms.
And that was the end: I was unkind—in your mind, you had fat arms.
Since we broke up, a year has gone by
And I only now realized why.
How does love between the sensitive work at all?
Give me blue skies over an island. A parking lot. A wall.
