Infidelity

Sensory poem: smell, sight, touch, taste, and sound. The 6th sense more obvious.

He smelled of lies and deceit.

Cigarettes and stale perfume were roses in comparison.

His smooth-tongued words fell like rain.

Whispered persuasions that were at his disposal whenever he spoke.

Dark-tangled locks curled around his ears.

His piercing baby blues were alternately serious and sardonic.



He stroked her thigh as he pushed her down.

They fumbled in haste to disrobe.



My sixth sense had been working overtime.

When I heard voices outside the door,

I had grabbed my purse and hid.

My cellphone snapped pictures

of his infidelity from my closeted space.

My mouth tasted blood where I had bitten them.