On Trying Not to Swallow Her Lover’s Last Excuse

I know you’re speaking parenthetically
(your secret shared in utmost confidence),
but most of what you say’s hyperbole.

Your truth is thin, in my experience;
your facts are fat. Do you feel neatly purged,
your secret shared? In utmost confidence,

it’s now my turn: Go—I’ve packed your bags. Urged
out so heartlessly, will you ever see
your facts are fat? Do you feel neatly purged,

your sock drawer empty, soap dish gone? You’re free.
Now you want to know how I could throw you
out so heartlessly? Will you ever see

that it’s impossible to misconstrue
that cheap cologne? Still, you say you love me
now. You want to know how I could throw you

out. It’s killing me to act logically.
I know you’re speaking parenthetically
(that cheap cologne, still). You say you love me,
but most of what you say’s hyperbole.