A poem about The Other Woman and her power over the man you love

Photography by  Olivia Bee

Photography by Olivia Bee


Isn’t she a hideously erotic creature?
A soulless whore seducing him with the venom between her legs?
Clutching his innocent heart in her rough palms.
How dare she sway her hips and pull his gaze towards her?
How dare she trick him into falling in love with her?
How dare she trap what is someone else’s? Steal a prized possession?

What if I tell you she is not what your man makes her seem to be?
Did he forget to mention he thinks of her as voluptuous waves?
That keep beating against the shores so quickly that he could never keep her in closed palms?
She is a wild woman, passionate and loving yet vulnerable and kind.
He was enthralled by her spirit and chased it relentlessly.
The waves moved with a motion he had never seen before.
And then one day he got a chance, when the waves stopped,
To soak in that freedom that is her soul.

And it was too much.
He could not dive in so deep.
It seemed exciting but so turbulent. So dangerous.
So he stayed at the shallow end as he said goodbye.

You may take back your mere mortal.
One who thought he could swim the harsh seas without drowning.
Trying to calm her and make her like any other.

But she crashes against the shore and she rises higher with every tide.
And she will rise again.

Submitted to ArtParasites by Shruti Menon