The Other Man
He holds me and tells me i’m his and i tell him he is mine.
We hold hands, kiss, and make love till the sun comes up.
Smiling smiling, his eyes hold mine.
He whispers sweet nothings until we run out of time.
He watches me slip on his favorite red dress.
Beautiful beautiful he tells me as I slip on my shoes.
I gather my things and walk towards the door.
He looks at me as I look at him.
He looks like he wants to say three little words, but I stop him because the reality is
He holds me but I am not his and he is not mine.