On Polyamory

There are insurmountable secrets
In her doe eyes
Who do they see?
You or me?
Those nights
When she lies next to me
And thinks of you
Whom does she dream?
You or me?
When she mistakenly
Utters my name
During a conversation
about you
Who does she mean?
You or me?
Who is it that walks with her
And who is it
That holds her hand?
Who is it
That kisses her
And who
Looks into her eyes?
You
Or me?
Or both?

Maybe her free will
Runs its fingers
Over us both (and others)
And churns out a melody
that we call ‘our song’.

For it takes-
Two to tango;
but many many notes
to make a tune…

Ankush, 29/6/14