the married woman

she told me she was married,
averting her eyes,
to the plush blue hotel rug
her shoes sunk in,

but that she wasn't happy.
I love him, she said,
and he loves me, but I don't want
to leave him,
his money, the house.
we have a dog, a cat, a
picket fence.

yesterday we had the place painted,
and bought a new
kitchen sink.

I just want more fun in my life.
more pizzaz, excitement.
there has to be more than luke warm
sex
and watching tv.

I looked at her sitting
deep into a chair at the Westin Hotel,
nervously looking at each person
who came through the revolving doors.

her arms were folded tightly
across her chest.
hat on, coat buttoned tight.
a light scared woman,
not unattractive, but pale
and thin.

a brush of rouge on her cheeks.
a stripe of lipstick, pink.

i'm sorry, I said, I
can't help you with that,

you're very nice and smart,
but I can't go down
that road.

I couldn't do that to him,
or me, or you, or anyone
for that matter.

i'd even feel bad for the cat
and dog.

I've seen how that all works
out in the end.
my ex wife was just like you,
a lying adulterer.
sorry, but no dice, it's a shame
the mess you both are in.