carol anne duffy poem, part iv

You'll be excited to know that this is (or I plan for it to be) the penultimate post for this poem. You can find the beginning here.

Mr and Mrs Mackay silently ate. She eyed him
boning his fish, slicing it down to the backbone,
sliding the skeleton out, fastidious, deft. She spied him
eat from the right of his plate to the left, ordered, precise.
She clenched herself for his voice. A very nice dish
from the bottomless deep. Bad words ran in her head like mice.
She wanted to write them down in the crossword lights.
14 Across: F . . . 17 Down: F . . . . . . 2 Down: F . . . . . .
Mr Mackay reached for the OED. She bit her lip. A word
for one who is given to walking by night, not necessarily
in sleep. She felt her heart flare in its dark cave, hungry, blind,
open its small beak. Beginning with N. Mrs Mackay
moved to the window and stared at the ravenous night. Later,

awake in the beached boat of the marital bed( ... )