Fable of G and I

Your eyes, who I’ve fallen into lovesickness over, turned into my fever today.

All I saw was their desire.

You didn’t let me see your eyes. Yet, so deluded, I saw you in disguise.

Lady, who were you?

There was a great beauty, she pulled out a cigarette, she was looking at me.

It’s tempting, now, g, when dominatrix look at me, to submit to them. Now I know it’s my thing. But the moment is yours alone.

I’ll not cheat, no matter what people claim me to be.

I’m ill, I need you next to me, g.

Then people started to say you were the lady, and I didn’t know it.

What’s the deal, g? Blond hair this morning, different car, different glasses.

Do you know how much I hate myself now, for not guessing it was you?

And the freaks are gloating, you bitch, I want you.

And then you drove past again. Was it you?

And then I heard a freak neighbour yell out in mockery and said the woman with the cigarette wasn’t you.

And did I just see you, then? Or was it another woman I saw you in?

I’m so sorry to accuse you in such ravings. In moments of clarity I know I’m losing it.

I’m so sorry I’m losing it, when I see you I can’t resist it.

And I see and hear you everywhere, now, in every woman’s face and hair

And your voice, a secure arm around my waist

In every car that drives past, I wonder, when? I’m begging you.

I say nothing unless spoken to. When do I finally find my bliss and submit to you?

And so many beautiful women, g, all over, but your fever’s all I want, anymore. The heat I give into.

The woman I’ll lose my mind to.

In my lovesickness, only you can cure my heart, g.

I need your love before I die. Before my heart’s broken into mad little pieces.