You are fast asleep.
In your bed. Next to your loving wife.
Your kind, sweet, unassuming wife.
Who just so desperately wants to be accepted.
And I know her.
And I see her.
And I understand her.
And I want to help her.
Help her break free of you.
And your wicked ways.
To know that she is worthy, regardless of your attention or affection.
Yet, here I am.
Vacuum the floors.
Carpet clean the rug.
Make the bed.
Must make everything perfect.
For your arrival tomorrow.
Where you won’t care what anything looks like because goddammit you are going to be getting laid.
But you tell me that I am such a dear person.
That I am such a sensitive soul.
And you adore me.
How do these two reconcile?
Which one is it- Mr. Exec?
I look forward to seeing your face.
To kissing your lips.
To watching that smile over take you.
To hear your laughter.
I never know what you are laughing about.
Sometimes I worry that it is me.
What kind of monster are you, sir?
How deep will the rabbit hole go?
And how soon until I fall so deeply in love with you that I am unable to let go?
At 2 Am. I care very little. I’m just preparing.