Unfinished
I watch the way you look at her-
the way you look at me-
and it is the same.
The way you smile,
look at my eyes,
her eyes,
my lips,
her lips.
It is the same.
The same continuous game you play with no conscience as you manipulate me into loving you, and into forgiving you.
It is not love, it is lust.
A lust, not for me, but for what I can give you.
|