I Never Asked Him about the Dark Woman in the Photo

I heard my parents arguing

until the coldest part of the night

held hostage “happily ever” from my mom.

Afterward, they shared no one bed

and erased their anniversary celebrations.

We ate in silence: pan fried liver and sweated onions.

I wasn’t supposed to know

my father brought her into our living room,

past our kitchen with the new microwave,

past all my siblings’ bedrooms.

I wasn’t supposed to know

this affair went on for months–

Months my mother grew her voice

among self-slicing thorns and her wrist.

I knew my father paid for us to vacation

in Europe, which he canceled abruptly,

stepping on a sharp rock

and tripping over his marriage.

After the night when my parents fought,

no one could find their way back home.