because (now that I know it’s you not me)

Because

I am not cursed
With that dreadful acuity,
I imagined your faithlessness
To be some factual slip
Rather than some foundation garment.
So the unravelling of you and me
Was a terrible shock
A horrible betrayal
The likes of which you have not felt
Since you realised that
Both your parents were arseholes.
The realisation of such imperfection
In someone I loved
Seemed to last an eternity
As they toppled off the high shelf
That I had placed them on,
Hitting me on the head
With their clay feet
Before smashing
In what did not seem to be a hurry
On the cold floor.
It was different for me.
As even in the blush of giddy lust
I knew that you were shallow and insecure
Prone to bouts of bullish rationalism,
But because you were a good lay
Or a quick learner
I overlooked all those things
And saw you with a kinship for generosity
A plate served to overflowing every evening
A book one might fall asleep with on one’s chest
The morning’s stiff neck worth it
For the flawed joy interleaved
In the pages.