Deep in middle suburbia
A common kind of madness
Has taken hold of my neighbour
Hallucinating a calculated temptation
The result of domestic desperation
Fanning the flames of her suspicions
Phantom femme fatales where there are none
Every innocent action is an act of seduction
Borne from long overdue adolescent frustration
But it’s only a figment of her imagination
There are no parted lips, painted like red liqourice
Paired with a white tennis skirt
Choreographing every noise you exert,
Words aren’t exchanged, in a hushed, seductive whisper
While draped in model swimwear glistening in chlorine water
With perfect shampoo commercial hair
Where everything you do paints a sensual picture
No there’s no open invitation
Or offer for uninterrupted gazing
We haven’t spoken but the glances I’ve stole
Through voile covered windows
Have told me all I need to know
From the salon curled hair in bottled gold
To the heel tipped shoes with the red sole
And a gaze that runs ice cold
The neighbour’s wife, seems like the type
To get jealous on sight, of any woman within a mile
Convinced they’re seeking out her husband’s eyes
Biding their time, whenever they look twice
But I’ve more love for this salty snack in my fingers
While thinking about men, who are no longer alive
To be wasting my time, looking over the fence lying in divide
And I’ve enough fantasies to keep me warm at night
To be thinking about something, to which I’m not inclined
When I’ve barely noticed you exist,
Merely a house that once lay empty now is filled
So you can keep your conversations to the windows and doors
As you gush to your friends, about the things you don’t want to say
I don’t need to hear, I wasn’t listening anyway
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