He's got you on his shelf dusted with care. You're out - front and center - you can't be missed. I see you clear as day and can only assume he means to keep you close in that way. A memory honored until the bitter end.
He's got me in his bed, moist and ready for his attention. I'm present, but packed up and hidden; a kind of embarrassing truth to his current existence. I'm kept at arms length - just close enough to feel some warmth, but not close enough to feel the commitment of his arms around me.
I look in the mirror and wonder who he loves more...
your memory or my body.
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