Trigger

I lie.

Look, look. Look:
Look at her, what I’ve done.
Oh, Guilt. Always there,
When will I stop? and How?

Denial earns me empty stares,
your broken voice over the phone.
And he, he won’t forgive me
--Will he?--
after what I’ve done to you.

“Aren’t you--darling?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Won’t you, love?”

I will. I have. I promise. I’m sorry.