Perverted Commas

What you write to me
feels like it should be
put in perverted commas.

Your words stick to me
like the sperm he leaves
on your body, in your hair

which you wear with such
obsessive pride beneath your clothes,
beneath your husband's nose.

You are chic and successful
but you dirty your knees
as you suck his cock in a carpark

or take his semi in your colon
whilst a stranger fucks your mouth.
You revel in that taste

of your arse on his pipe
as you type your tormented thoughts
to drip in my mind, my eyes,

stinging, like alkali.