The lover of my love...

She came here to see him. His friend, his lover. Two nights he was gone. Our bed felt lonely and my feet always cold. But he was home now. Home to me. Home with her by his side. They have been something for a while now. Red eye flights from Austin to Portland . Hotel rooms, her apartment, the woods and beach. They had been together lots of places. But never here, in our home, our bed. Soon though they would be, we would be. She cooks us dinner and tells me how much fun they had seeing her favorite artist the night before in Austin, he surprised her with tickets. He is always thoughtful. When he asks to take our pictures i am delighted. I grabbed her by the hand and lead her into the closet to see my collection. She touched a few lightly before choosing, it was her first time in a Weasel. I love when he takes my picture, and it was even more amazing getting to share it with her. and now, I share him, with her. My love is her lover and for tonight they are both mine.