Divorcing your soul.

There are a number of unequivocal No's in my head shaking yes.
His eyes dance across the someone Else's living room, meeting everyone Else's vow of faith within a glance.
Spilling car keys into bowls, willing.
Twittering thumbs, tracing the exterior of metal and plastic, combined.
A connotation within a whisper and a wink. We go home tonight.
Not my bed, no.
Firm hand grasping wrists, pulling to the passenger door, open in gentlemen gesture.
Stinging eyes view windsheild infidelity.
He's whispering sweet-nothings in an ear of lust, disguised as a young blonde.
She will know him like I do.
She will know the whimpers and gasps for air.
The climax and the kisses carefully planted.
and I will know nothing of this.
Driving away to a comforter that brings me nothing.
An orgasm and a change of clothes made.
And I will see him again,
Tarnished.
We end up in the beyond when we know now is never good enough.
Satisfaction is a coathanger for disassociation.
We are unwilling to remember.

This is not the marriage I'd dreamt of.