False Promise

by Boniface Badubi

He picks the phone,

I pretend not to notice.

Though my heart tightens in despair,

I know, I know he will never be mine.

God knows I don't want him to leave his wife and six kids,

Still I want him to be mine.

He promised she would be up in the sky for London,

None of it is enough consolation.

A year of undivided attention,

Only if it was genuine affection not loneliness.

His perfume drenched white shirt,

The only remainder of our love.

Still he smiles with a heart so white

Does he hold my heart close?

How can I even ask of this?

He holds his wife and kids close.

Somewhere deep in my heart

I know the naked truth

I am just an option 

Just an option, never will be a priority.

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Boniface Badubi is a Motswana writer.