THAT SORT OF MAN.

A WIFE AND HER HUSBAND AND HIS MISTRESS.

He was that
sort of man.

The sort of man
Mum said
not to mix with.

I mixed
with him.

When I say mixed
I mean had sex
with him
married him
sat with him
talked with him
met his friends.

He liked me
because I was me
and not
anyone else.

But he liked
that skinny b***h
at his office
more than me
because she
was herself
and not me.

I liked it when
he was nice.

He could be nice.

But once he met her
and screwed her
he wasn't so nice.

A friend told me
he was screwing
the b***h at the office
because she worked there
and the b***h
had told her
she was having it away
with him not knowing
he was married
to me but boasting
he was a good lover.

He was that
sort of man.

He was that sort.

He was.

I bottled them both
in our bed.

Wine bottle.

Half full or half empty
depending how
you look at things.

I was that sort
of woman.

I was that sort.

I was.