Infidelity

How did
My clothes run away?
My stark white skin
Showing I am of high class
Now desecrated by my nudity

I am caught
I am caught
One has my arm and my body
The other
A note and my eyes.

Who to choose?
The poor one with the loveable beard
Or the chubby rich one:
I am guaranteed security.

I am caught
I have no choice.
My muscles tense in my back,
My dress crumpled beneath me
Starts to slip
To the ground.

The on-looking angels
Do nothing
To aid me.
Help me
I am caught.

My hair still perfectly plaited
And entwined,
Intricately interwoven
Like my feelings for them both.