To Her

You win, you’ve won. And how

could you not? You have years.

I have hours. He loves you for the past.

He could have loved me for the future but

the past, your past together is more important.

It calls to him in his sleep. It haunts him in the daylight.

I am a dream

to him, a fantasy, not real, not

beside the reality of you. You are everything he believed

about himself, everything he knew must be true.

I am only smoke and mirrors and

willing to subsume myself to him, to be there, to love.

It isn’t enough. It never was, never could be when

weighed against your


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