The Woman Who Lied To Me

She sat on a pink couch,
Her long plait below the wall clock,
Her frail, left hand touching the micro wave on the salty kitchen sink,
Her glassy thighs bare,
Like an ornament,
A white cup of bitter black tea
Between her soft feet.
I said, trembling,
Your husband is,
Tonight, angry like
A mad bull,
Holding an axe with a jacknife,
Saying to the whole world,
I will tonight kill him,
That idiot teacher that sleeps with my wife!
Hiccupping, I said, didn’t you,
Miss Laraba Omosin,
On this couch lastnight,
To me swore you’re a virgin?

~Steve King