I could not make out anything
in the picture she
sent me
until I lightened it and
saw her in a room full of men,
immediately assuming
something
I should not have
assumed,
stirring up in me
Shakespeare's
Green Eyed beast,
she telling me she wanted
to share a photo of
her and her friends,
while I tried to make out who was whom.
and which one would stay behind
when the rest of them
left
or maybe more than
one,
or maybe even all of
them
while I -- a cuckhold
-- watched
from a distance,
all of this
manufactured
in my perverted mind,
wishing I could be
one of them,
wishing I might see myself
in a dark corner of her apartment,
just one of the
boys.
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