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You are empty and I am full You aren't quite satisfied While I am fed up With the "feeling this way" And we make love in the absence of the other (lover). He is gone but I am over here. She is lost as we are found By the unmade bed in the after-mourn And we make love again. To you I am over, But you haven't under/gone The metamorphosis we like to call "change", And in my mind your absence wanes Because you appear To be enjoying us both with another (lover). |