Another’s

How to love a man,
whose lips whisper another’s name?
A woman’s

I weep in my sleep
As his eyes look at the horizon
Over the edge of my pillow

My hands caress his skin
But not the tender fabric of his heart
For its another’s

The woman at ball
The mirror I looked into
Her likeliness like my past

When the night was young
And the moon was a virgin
Yes! Her moon!

Still young and bright,
In the dawn of the twilight
And the warm earth beneath

She lays in a bed of grass
And hums to stars,
Her voice calling to the angels

And along comes my man
At least he was,
In the past

Now a stranger,
Or another’s man
In my bed of withering grass

And with my tears to wipe,
I lay cold, thoughtful,
How to love another’s man?

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