words left unsaid

her kind of man

oh no, poor boy, she's gone and done it again
she chose you but her mind is elsewhere
she is thinking about somebody else every night
yesterday, today, and most definitely tonight

she's happy while dreaming about him
visualizing him, admiring him, kissing him
mind unfiltered, imagination wild, she's his now
not yours...oh, but never yours, blind macau

picture it with me: she looks right at this guy
looks right into those ocean orbs; she'll happily dive
their breaths soft, their lips close, their silence loud
and she sees herself, reflected in his gray-blue eyes

"i'm yours, always yours" is what she says next
he's good, just too damn good to not to tempt
and he is tempted, for his eyes darken, able to melt
he says nothing, he only kisses her, he truly cares

my darling gentleman, now you see, you're a fool in love
and, so is she, for he is only imaginary, simply fiction
but, to her, he is far better than his rival, mine truly
you're better off with me, at least what I see is real

too late to go and fight, she's just too horse whipped, lad
she's his now, to find her you'll need a new map
she's let you go, you're gone with the wind, understand?
guess what, slick? you can't do anything, he is her

kind of man.

-k.k