The Other Woman

Write me something, you say.
And I wish not to write about the colour of your shirt or your pale skin,
Or your chiselled face.
I wish to write about the other woman you know;
The woman you remember sporadically,
The woman who hitherto was your listener while you were her welly.

The other woman traps your lies in a web only she can entangle.
She looks at you with a blazing vision.
She lets your palm cup her cheek.
She cradles your thoughts until she falls asleep.

The other woman has trespassed a forbidden ground, so she believes.
Hand in hand we strolled,
Until ‘the woman’ took notice, and you unclutched her gripping hand.

Write me something, you say.
But the other woman can’t write you a nice poem.
She wished to, but you bottled up her wishes and flung it into the ocean.
You strangled hope with dishonesty.
You kissed with lips that narrated a different story.
You lied. You lied. And you lied.

But the other woman lied too.

She denied you passage into her heart.
She denied you the love.
But she couldn’t deny you all.
Such is she,
Such is the other woman.

Advertisements
Categories: Poetry | Tags: , , | 1 Comment

Post navigation

One thought on “The Other Woman

  1. Jo

    Hits a little too close to home.

What do you have to say about the article?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: