I have a kept woman. Sorry. I keep a woman. I can’t get rid of her.
I have been very silly. I told her things.
“I want you.’ I’d said.
“You’ve got me!” she’d replied.
Plus her debts. She has needs. Her ‘shelves’ soon get empty.
I don’t mind the underclothes, in fact insist on what she wears. In fact,
money isn’t the object. The problem is….
She’s started to cling. The body still gets me, but…
The weeping. She’s started to weep. A clinging weeper. A kept wept clinger I’d like to sweep under the carpet. But I am compromised. Christ, I want to hit her!
Later, I arrive home, all miserable. The wife asks is there anything wrong.
I’d love to confide in her. I trust her. She doesn’t cling. She hardly ever weeps.
As for fucking…
“No, darling. It’s nothing”