Sometimes I see your lovely smile in hers,
So fresh, spontaneous, gladly greeting me;
Sometimes she utters tender, loving words
That swell my breast with what was meant to be;

Like yours, her lips caress mine, warm and whole;
Embracing, we’re imprisoned and set free;
We do become one body and one soul,
One seamless substance, bound eternally.

Yet there is no confusion in my mind,
Or guilt in loving both of you as one,
Or fear that you might know of her, and find
Reproachful remedies, and then be done.

The other is the one with whom I live.
You are the other woman whom I love.

© Hal Dendurent