You made me cry in cruel stations,
So I missed many trains. You married others
In plausible buildings. The subsequent son
Became my boss. You promised me nothing
But blamed me for doubting when who wouldn’t.
If I knew how to please you — who have found
Out my faults. In dreams I’m wild with guilt. Have pity
Kill it. Then, when I’ve lost all hope,
Kiss me again, your mouth so open —
I’d give anything for one more night —
That I go without thought. Don’t bite. No,
Mark me. My husband already knows
Exactly what owns me.
Gwyneth Lewis, Fooled Me for Years with the Wrong Pronuns