You think she is yours

Because she made love to you.

She made love to you specifically

Because she knew her body was all you would get.

There was never any danger

Of you taking anything else.

 

You think you have her

Because when you write to her

She responds to you.

But she responds to everyone

Regardless of how she feels about them.

You mean no more to her

Than anyone else she writes.

 

You think she is in love

Because she tells you she loves you.

But there are so many facets of love

So many degrees of uncertainty

And a past riddled with ambiguity.

How is she to know

You think she’s in love with you

When what she is really saying

Is something completely different.

 

You may think you have her

But nobody has her.

She belongs

To the wind.

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