Look, I'm not even bothered.
I'm not bothered that you're riding
another woman's bed as if they're waves,
and well, your body is the board.
I'm not bothered that you're exchanging
****** fluids all night long,
like when seawater mixes with your sweat
from catching waves all afternoon.
I'm not bothered.
Now listen, I'm not at all bothered.
I'm not bothered that you're dancing,
like her body is a wave you're surfing,
in some bar whose name I can't pronounce,
or I could, but you'll find it funny.
I'm not bothered that you're all over her,
moving it like you wanna get barreled in,
like she is just your dream surf trip
and that I just feel like a pool... or a fool,
I might be crying, but it's sunny.
But I'm not bothered.
Not at all.
But
I'm bothered...
I'm actually, really, totally bothered
by the jokes you'll share,
by the new jokes you'll make,
the ones I can't hear,
over the sound of the waves.
I'm bothered that you're not near,
'cause lately, you're all I ever crave.
I'm bothered...
by the sound of your laughters together,
or does it sound different in winter?
I'm bothered that she knows
how your laugh sounds in every season
and how your smile looks all year long.
Now I'm bothered.
I'm absolutely hot and bothered.