the first time you have
mistaken me for her
i knew it wasn't
just a freudian slip
i mean i was aware
of it for a while now
i just chose not
to comment on it
but if i said
i didn't mind at all
i would be lying
but i guess
pretending i don't
know anything
is still sort of —
kind of —
lying.
like that time you
made me breakfast
in bed and i was
surprised you knew
how i liked my
coffee when you
didn't even like
caffeine — but
i realized that it
was the only
thing you knew
how to brew
because she was
the one who
taught you.
and that time
i was so sure
i caught the first
syllable of her name
trapped between
the intersection of
your lips and my skin
and throughout
that whole night
i wondered if you
were closing your
eyes because of
pleasure, or because
of the pleasure of
imagining her.
but the last straw
was on the day of
our wedding, and
we were saying
our vows, and i said
i (my name)
take thee (your name)
as my lawfully wedded
husband and you
were supposed to
say i (your name)
take thee (my name)
but instead of my
name you said hers
while we were at
the altar and you
were holding my
hands and
i knew —
and i have
always known
that it wasn't just
a slip of the
tongue.

{g.c.q}