someone else not me

You walk out of the bar
with someone else, not me.
You stand beside a car
and touch his arm, while he
leans down to brush your lips
with his and, like a key,
his kiss unlocks your hips
which grind against his knee --
which stabs me like a knife
and kills me when I see
you go home in a cab
with someone else, not me.

12/5/09 3AM
Copyright 2009 Matthew J Wells