Does she know you like I know you?
Does she know your eyes water when you're tired?
Does she know you take your coffee black?
And sleep on your side, facing the egg shelled wall so dry,
Your lips crack with dry weather.
I used to rake my fingers ever so gently across your back just to feel you stir.

Make no mistake sir,
You’re twice times a liar and a lousy hider of secrets.
But that’s ok.
Morning comes,  
I clean the house,
and as you sleep the day away,  
If only, for one night, you could lay with me
and not murmur her name in your sleep.
I pretend not to see you wipe her lipstick from your cheek,
daring not to speak the unspoken
For fear of waking up alone.

For now we waltz around that elephant in the room.
But one day, I will ask you:
Does she know you like I know you?