In her poetic attraction
She found satisfaction
And the man in her bed
Was not the man in her head
He would never share the beauty
She held in her mind
As she watched him sleep
Knowing full well
He was blind
But a poets mind
Is hard to find
And loneliness
Is none too kind
So she swallowes her pride
Lying ,
With the man in her bed
While drifting off
To the one in her head