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).