To: me

Before,

 

you did the same.

glances and touches added fuel

to a fire that wasn’t yours to 

stoke.

 

To: them

Now, 

 

she stokes his fire

and I feel my embers dying 

when they laugh together and I wonder

what is so funny,

and what does that mean?

 

If she 

digs her hands into his soft skin,

kneading and pushing and pulling at the 

muscles (I know she so admires) 

and he says nothing what does that mean?

 

To: you

I saw the way you looked at me, 

now I feel the glances you give to her.

All I hear are the sighs you push my way, 

as your hearty laughter she incurs. 

 

Your heart hides from me, 

As if I don’t see it perched on her shoulder, 

As if I can’t feel its absence when I lie on your chest.

As if I don’t feel my own growing colder. 

 

If I ask you no questions, 

you can give me no lies.

But those questions go answered

with every secret you hide. 

 

 

To: me

Does he know

that you know?