a game

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We play a game,
I am his wife in it.
Maybe I can't be his in reality,
So we both find happiness in the game.

I joke about having cheated on him.
He laughs at it,
But I could see the discomfort in his eyes.
I could read the, 'Why would you do that?' expression on his face.

On the following day,
He jokes about having an affair.
Only that, it wasn't a joke in reality.
He was seeing someone.
I try to hide my agony,
And I hope he didn't notice the sadness in my eyes.

Only if he were good at reading the
Language of my soul through my eyes,
Would he know how big a bruise he has caused.

Although we decided to not combine the game with reality,
The truth of the reality hurts so much
That the contentment of the game is lost.

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