To the Other Woman’s Other Woman
she savors the taste of love
new promises whispering whimsically
aching for more.
more
more
and then some
gorging herself on lies.
she hasn’t noticed yet
the drifter in his eyes
or the smokescreen
that cages his gypsy heart.
she hasn’t noticed yet
that she is me.
© Nathalie M. Viorato
