Infinite infidelity

There is no last straw,
Only hay as it may lay
strung on the floor
behind these closed doors
where we profess our secrets
sins of sacrilege
the lust for another
the touch from someother
and if i call her a bi tch
you slap softly at my wrist
to remind me shes mine
but i think you, you'll just do fine
you remind me you can't, you won't another night
because women have intituition, men have brawn & might
or stubbornness, and stupidity, and a bloodlust for revenge
blood is the currency of retribution, I've got a gallon to spend
as we drown swimming in sweaty sin, tonight, life is perfect,
the trouble was needed, the trouble was worth it.
or at least - that! That! We can pretend.
Two barnyard bodies, lay together
all alone in the end.