Veritossed
by
Joaquin CarvelYou came over extra early
to surprise him when he woke
but the bed was made – unlike him -
so you stepped out for a smoke
and you couldn’t help but notice
speculating where he’d go
by the trash, the empty bottle
of a ’64 Bordeaux
he’d once told you he was saving
for that sometime special night
and your final drag was shaky
knowing something wasn’t right
so you dialed up his number
heard it ringing from inside
and you found it in the kitchen
on the counter, right beside
broken bits of silver ribbon
and a scrap of shiny paper -
fighting hard to draw a breath
it all vanished into vapor
as you glanced into the basin
and discovered in the sink
an upended crystal goblet
with a foreign shade of pink
telltale lipstick in a crescent
like a smile, near the rim -
you could barely see for crying
but you piercingly saw him -
and stumbling in stupor
of revulsion, hurt and ire
you tore off and threw his necklace
and discovered that a fire
smoldered still in glowing cinders
in the hearth, and seeing red
found an earring on the carpet
which (of course) explained the bed….
***
From the freeway, in the rearview
dusky plumes began to dawn -
like exclamation points that
both his house and you were gone -
in your ear he was a sparrow
on your neck, an albatross;
love may cast a
blinding brilliance
but
in vino,
veritas
