The women who steal married men are all named Diane <br />or Kathy. They wake up in the night in Baby Dolls, <br />sexy and steamy beneath acetate sheets, <br />thinking of hot tubs. <br /> <br />It is always smoky where they work. <br />Under cashmere sweaters, their nipples <br />appear erect. They wear tight jeans because <br />vaginitis doesn't mean anything to them. <br /> <br />On their nails, little hearts. <br />When they walk, the scent of perfume. <br />When the wind blows, hair not moving, <br />hairspray clinging to oversprayed whisps. <br />Big hair rules sex toys. <br /> <br />It is the night that moves them. <br />They take the lead, and draw in <br />what they need to take. Survival, they say. <br /> <br />The women who steal husbands say <br />they aren't bad people, the smell of stale perfume <br />more like smoke than roses.<br /><br />Louise Marie DelSanto<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-women-who-steal-married-men/
