His arms held me in your familiar embrace.
Tasted his lips with the linger of your kiss.
His love's assurance held my heart in bliss.
Our bodies fit as did yours and mine.
His strokes grew longer and deeper each time.
Both his love and his lust were impossible to tame.
Sounded just like you when he moaned my name.
But I realized at last, this man wasn't you.
Hi soul was honest and his intentions true.
His love for me was real, not just something to say.
His concern was genuine and he acted that way.
He never made me feel I wasn't enough rich,
enough blond, thin or tall.
He worshipped my body with his mind and
his flesh, flaws and all.
He looked at others with compassion,
knowing I had needs too,
not from a self-absorbed, narcissistic point of view.
You'll see this man when faced with a mirror.
Looking into his eyes the truth couldn't be clearer.
Truth and depth of character lie on
the other side of the glass here with me,
staring back with pity and regret at
the man you pretend to be.
July 15, 1998
