Born To This
In his own bedroom for the first time,
Lonely and unable to sleep,
He took a quick slug of what was left
In the bottle, because the drinking portion
Of his evening had come to an end.
Women are changing before everyone’s
Eyes, he said to himself, drunkenly.
Think about that change. Think about
What is happening in this room tonight.
He stood by the window, looking out
On the street. He had never seen
His street in the middle of the night.
The houses were dark and almost hidden
Behind the shaggy canopy of trees.
He was not angry with her, he was angry
With himself, because he could not stop
What he was doing. He had no reason
To be angry with her, she was perfectly
In the right. A small voice began to speak
Elsewhere in the apartment, but too softly,
Too distantly for him to hear. Tomorrow
Was his birthday. Had she completely
Forgotten? He dressed himself
In silks and satins. He was born to this.