G (later that night)

I keep giving you chances

And you have a taste for jealous bitches

You betray me with bitch filth, again

I keep giving you choices,

There’s no choice, really, between the best

And cheap imitation,

So tell me which choice you reflect?

I say look at yourself,

You look at the bitch filth, instead,

Nothing to see but their jealousy, beneath

I say, look again

Is that not a choice between two?

Do you see you in my duende –

The woman of my dreams?

Or in my own whale of a mother?

Who betrays me every day, ears bent to my sisters twisted jealousy

What mirror will you enter into, g?

Will you look at the bitch filth, get fat on jealousy, be my whale of a mother

Glaring back?

Or will you admit what you know already, that I’m better than this shit,

And be the image I see, the woman of my dreams, reflected in me – in love with, fairest of all I see –

You – stare back at me,

Domme morrigan!