She climbed in bed. Her luscious curves against my naked back
Naked. Curves. She was cold but hugged me tight
I pushed her away
I pushed her.
Away.
Now she is away
Her curves tight against someone else's back
Someone else's naked back
Her. Someone else.
Pain. No. No. She is mine.
MINE. MY GIRL. MY FUTURE WIFE
She is not mine. Not anymore she is not mine.

She bought me belts. Handmade Chelseas. Paisley pocket squares.
She did my tie in the morning and kissed me goodbye.
She did my tie. She leant in and did it.
Half Windsor. Blue Paisley. Cheap suit.
She tiptoed and concentrated.
Then she kissed me.
She kissed me.
Me.
But I pied her off as I was rushing.
Rushing to work. Somewhere.
Nowhere.
Nowhere to rush. Nowhere to hide.
Now she leans in every morning.
And does someone else's tie. Full windsor.
Cause he doesn't rush. He waits for her.
She does his tie.
The way she did mine

She wears a ring. Tiny diamond. On her left hand
Ring finger. Platinum band.
She used to smile and say "I am his wife".
Wife.
She was my wife.
She still smiles.
She says "I am his wife."
But he isn't me. And the diamond.
The diamond five times the size of mine.
She doesn't smile and say she is mine anymore.
She is not mine anymore.