How does one have five husbands?
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
And the one you're with presently, isn't yours too.
You must have been searching for love in wrong places,
Falling into the hands of men whose lips are as slippery as the hand with which they hold you.
At night, when you wake while half asleep, how do you remember whose arms you're in?
When you moan, do you call out the wrong name?
I just wonder how you've been coping.