Surrounded by those
Who love me dearly
Yet it is the outsider
The one who
No longer loves me
It is she who opens me
She is the one
Whose leverage prizes
These words from me
Hers is the warm skin
The fragrant bosom
Hers are the strong thighs
The thrusting passions
Hers are the memories
In the long-lasting juices
She is the obsession
Whose walls surround me
Hers are the reminders
Of Friday afternoon flights
Weekend-filled fantasies
Self-satisfied smug expressions
