An old friend

In my life I never loved women -

gave too much to men.

Did then;

still do.

But in a way I loved you.

Loved that you were womanly

and had so much guts.

Loved marzipan with meat

when the almonds ran out.

You were always gloriously nuts.

Loved that we were pals,

your earthiness and your art.

I worried for your heart

when the latest lover left

for the Christmas hols.

Back to the wife,

leaving another black hole in your life.

Our intelligence and culture gave me pleasure,

we each had just one child -

you called mine Treasure.

One evening, hot, you came late,

surprised me at my desk.

Your business couldn't wait and

from the chaise-longue

you gave vent, daggers eyed and smile.

Saying that all the while

your man was looking at me,

amused by me, talking about me

and I was to stop just being me.

You blamed it on my style.

I was hurt and felt wronged

and thought Girl it's a bit rich.

He is someone else's husband -

she may not understand him

but you are the bitch.