We lay here together...

I have no clue where the inspiration for this poem came from, because I was in my American Literature lecture at the time, taking notes on Hemingway, but whatever.
I can't seem to place the context of the poem. Are the two people having an affair, and maybe they can't ever be honest with each other because of the secrecy and lies, but also because they have responsibilities to their other partners; or are they a couple and one of them is cheating and the other suspects?

We lay here together

and your pretty eyes

watch me move

(framed by those absurdly

long lashes)

as I move away from the 

sweat-soaked bed sheets

that smell more of you

than they ever did of me

and I want to cry

because your eyes tell me

you will never leave this moment

and yet

in the entirety of our

tumultuous passion

you were never here

The End

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