Passive aggression

Nothing gives me more pleasure 

Than perching on your shoulder 

Whilst you pleasure her

Cheekily nipping at your earlobes 

Infesting your brainlobes 

Crawling across your memories like an angry tribe of red ants 

What an amazing sensation to anchor my fingers into yours 

To look into the famished mirrors that are your eyes 

And to see my reflection 

As you salvage the sweet fruits of her flesh that will never fill you 

The climax comes as you look at your own hand, realizing it is not yours

You feel him inside of me 

Like I am inside of you 

And the surge of warmth you feel is not yours 

But another man's

I lay satisfied 

As does she 

But you are empty  

Wondering if you will ever be able to sleep with her