The Day Girl by Samantha Burns

I am not a silent poet

You always greet me with a kiss, (and that smile)

we talk away hours, over food – in bed.

I know each edge of your body just as well as your wife,

and it’s not like I never ask about  her.

I wear Jean Paul Gautier, for men

so you can still smell of  me

and I might pretend I smell of you on the weekend.

I wipe the lipstick off your cheek,

save birthday memoirs to your phone.

Pay for my own taxi home.

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