the other woman

who is she?

the one who hypnotizes you so

what sort of woman could have a man

quite like the man I know as you

she is young and vibrant

but far more wise than me

beautiful not pretty, unusual face

your muse- so fascinated by her

her intelligence could run me in circles

til I was tired, panting, while she laughed.

my clothes would dwarf her fine-boned body

as I stand flabby and elephantine beside 

I know there is more than

size, shape, face, brains

but right now I’m still learning to love

who I really am

of course she’s lovely, you have good taste

shame I cannot say the same for me

me with the lies and the guilt and the secrets

habit of hurting others to feel better about myself

yes, I do know who and what I am 

just as much as I know nothing about you

and will probably never do 

I know what I’m doing, though it may seem

insane, crazy, predatory 

but what else can I lose?