When I talk with other men
⁠I always think of you—
Your words are keener than their words,
⁠And they are gentler, too.

When I look at other men,
⁠I wish your face were there,
With its gray eyes and dark skin
⁠And tossed black hair.

When I think of other men,
⁠Dreaming alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
⁠Blows the dreams away.