The Wrong Woman

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

Read and forget me
And how I am lifted
With the promise
That I will soon leave you
Like the leaves
Cut from a branch

Your eyes were
Like glass
And your hand
Like an edge
Cruelly peeling from the wood
A splinter to sting my finger

Still...
I cannot abhor the madman
Who asks for you
Who foolishly draws
This close
And makes me
One of His

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