2 Sides of the Same Coin

I Can't Stop Cheating on My Mistress
(Revisited)

I swear to God I love my wife, but this life that I live is addictive,
sick, to the point where I feel guilt no more, but that’s not even the issue,
she is, Ms. ’06 Me & My Bitch,
never seen her coming unless I was beneath,
atop or side to side,
now she is a constant situation residing within aorta glass households,
as a stone thrown this papa rolls, blood in, blood out, no love in,
so why then does she keep trying to gain emotional clout,
even within a sexual drought my white,
creamy flows have nothing to do with how I feel for her,
her and my wife, who,
I swear to God is the only one I Eros, Agape, Philos,
all those outside the cipher are outside the circle,
which has recently expanded from three to four,
never no more is what I uttered the first time I crept,
the last time we slept I thought of her the entire time,
not my wife, but her, Ms. Intellectual Freak,
the perfect blend, the perfect friend, does not have a man,
but understands my appetite for destruction has a deep hunger,
which she allows to wander as long as it returns,
she calls it Boomerang Dick, my mistress calls it Lick and Split,
wifey calls it to bed late, early to rise,
which is partly why I live to die for the moment,
atonement won’t remove this scarlet letter, the first day I met her,
not my mistress, but her,
we spoke for hours on end,
celestial thoughts,
worldly passion,
so deep the interaction I never once opted for masking the fraud,
told her all about the fraternal twins in unholy matrimony,
Ms. I Do and Ms. I Did,
could have hid it all, but why…

She, not my wife or my mistress,
cries when I leave, cries when I stay, cries when her orgasms rise,
raise her to highs, high enough to lose breath for lack of oxygen,
erogenous zones full court pressing,
fingertips wet with hints of curiosity,
leaving a fork in the road with her standing betwixt,
me laying between, us sitting before our present,
never once did she ask me to divorce or suggest I live life separate,
furthermore,
we reminisce on how good it must have been when I was single,
no, she, not my mistress,
never uttered words of disrespect,
never rejected my dreams,
ideas or being; not once…

@least for now she’s become my friend with tangible benefits,
not just another bitch who loves golden shower hour piss
or lives to grant my each and every wish,
which is why I can’t stop cheating on her,
not my wife,
my mistress, because she,
not my mistress, but her,
is becoming less like a trick and more like her,
not her, but my wife…

Damn, guess I’m a have to cheat on her too…