Last night,
there was someone in my bed
who wasn't you.
As he pulled me close
I found myself wanting you.
And despite the empty hollow in my soul
and the shattered look in his eyes,
we both accepted the comfort the other had to give.
In the dark
there is only this-
the feel of skin and cloth
soft sounds from sleeping frames
warmth of two entwined together
seeking comfort from nameless pain
that neither will vocalize.
In the light
there is only this-
unspoken understanding
business as usual
pain that returns at daybreak
and the knowledge that the night can never erase it.
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