when you try to taste something
you don't like, they say lather it.
make it endurable.
marry the man.
lather him in falsification,
you will learn to love him.
in time.
he will pay for your life. buy you a house.
finance your children until he retires.
and then he'll ask,
“where has our money gone?”
with his furrowed brow.
you will tell him
he hasn't worked in over fifteen years
and his children are still in school.
one of the workers got in a really bad accident,
damaged a truck;
and they're living a difficult life
but they're nice
and like family,
so you paid for their medicine.
and he will pop a vein on his forehead
ask question after question,
not hearing answers
because all he really wants is see you cry;
and you will.
the silence in the house
(nevermind the children housed in their blankets)
will mend this short rift.
and you will lather him
in hopes and uxorial optimism.
you will sleep beside him again.
learn to love him.
in time.
