Oh, duplicitous lover of mine—
who are you, lying beside me?

The father, whose pride rings from your mouth
like the bells of liberty?

The husband, whose arms once lifted my soul?


Or the traitor who razed his own kingdom—
a castle turned to rubble at your feet?

So cunning, you are-
the parasite at the bottom of the glass,
a shadow shifting in the room,
with poison on your tongue.

Do you love me today?
Or them?

How long will your eyes cling like cobwebs
to strangers who were never yours to seek?

How long before you feel
how cold our bed has grown?

My touch?

How long until you notice
I am not asleep—
just lying beside a memory.  

I’ve heard your denials,
your guilt already etched in stone.

Your hands hold me like a promise.
Yet,  your eyes betray me like a curse.

And still—
I feel the echoes of our late-night dances
stream down my face as I cry today.
Different tears.  

Same man.

I am the witness to your storm,
and still I reach for your warmth—
like a ghost returning
to the scene of its death.

I do not know the man who holds me.
But I remember the man I love.

So I lie still in this haunted bed,
wondering if I am mourning
you—
or myself.