Halcyon

the other woman

he always left before the lights hit,
our lies, and lies, oh, how half-knit.
i am his hidden hour, his stolen minute,
give me a prize for my infinite limit.
love shouldn't need curtains drawn,
yet here i am, in rented rooms
that forget me by noon.

i pretend his cologne masks the truth,
but it never lasts past morning.
his ring told the truth,
but i mistook it for a stupid lie.
i pour the wine halfway,
feign he'll stay
my lipstick stains the rim
a proof, a prayer, a grim little hymn.
the keycard clicks without apology,
and i'm erased again,
like chalk under rain.

i thought i was the reason turns out,
i was just the season.
his words, sweet with repetition,
soured faster than summer fruit.
he said this feels different,
and, oh, the foolish trust of my foolish heart
as if difference was a vow,
not a habit of deceit.

the clock hands circle the same hour,
his favourite time to not belong
to the world outside this room.
my phone lights up: you up?
 i answer like a moth to a dying bulb.
it's pathetic, really,
how easily hope
survives on scraps.

he told me once that his love was complicated.
so i became the complication,
thinking that meant significance.
now i see, oh, lord,
i was only convenience,
dressed in delusion,
perfumed in ache,
only for his escape breaks.