IN HIS HOUSE
alone at the table in the room we shared last night
looks different in the light
our empty jug of wine
she is still asleep
this is not my house
she is not my girl
and I'll be back tonight to see what else I can bring upon myself
I am a visitor in his house
she called last night and I walked here in the rain
she said her man was doing wrong
and it'd been going on so long
he doesn't know what he has
this is not my house
she is not my girl
and I'll be back tonight to see what else I can bring upon myself
I am a visitor in his house
he's working a job somewhere out of town
she still rolls the shade down when I come around
I leave my boots next to his
wine on the rug and the pillowcase
a long-stemmed glass on its side in the big red stain
her hair fanned out on his sheets
this is not my house
she is not my girl
and I'll be back tonight to see what else I can bring upon myself
I am a visitor in his house
alone at the table in the room we shared last night
looks different in the light