I loved you ‘till you called.
It’s then I knew
that I was through
with you.

I heard his breathing in your voice,
Is all,
you had to call,
and lie me things all right.
No,
not even.
It dies this night.

I heard,
as you wished him,
kissed him,
while you hurried
self assurances to me.

You forget that I can
see beyond plain artifice
of rushing lust
and simple minded selfishness.

It was for you,
this call.
Was not for me,
it was for you.

10/07/2007

Posted on 10/08/2007
Copyright © 2025 Timothy Somers