DWMhereforfunnu_72

Does she know?
Could she know?
If she knows?
Where do I go?

Altered profile left unclosed?
Backroom nights typing instead
of mere pointing and clicking
(at WND headlines.)
Clandestine software downloaded?
D- all of the above?

Past misdeeds taint the scene already.
Eyes linger a tic too long
that glower unmistakable.
Outright consternation-
her clothes rarely come off.
I gripe to her about it a lot.

Assume an IM happenstance muy malo.
Presume a sloppy night of digital whimsy.
False names always but a signature rap
all too familiar swagger in prose- me.
Gotcha-
For sure-
If she hunts prey like me.

Racing heart pounding.
No eddifying note left behind,
a terse docket laying out charges.
But no phone answered either.
Damn caller ID.
No way to pace the battle.

Kitchen cleaned now for my honeybabysugarpie.
Innocuous news channel on TV.
Cats fed, litter fresh.
PC screen turned off.
History erased, cookies eaten.
Unless already documented
by the most vengeful of historians-
the woman scorned.

Rumble of idling motor.
Thumps of chattering of the scamps.
They walk in.
With Walmart bags
and kid-size DQ shakes.
Fresh ketchup stains and useless toys.

Flagging heart triumphant.
No mess, no muss, no fuss.
A false alarm, test-run drill.
False online identity still
trickling out in nervous spurts
in the room at night lit
by a shadow in the monitor's glare.