oh the stupid shallow hugs and kisses
had worn thin by the end of the first month
and all your correspondence demanded
was tributes and declarations
how tiresome to re-assemble
your broken English with every try
to go deeper
be more real
and get incomprehensible cloying chatter
causing a drawing in my head
like pus in an infected wound
no I didn't waste too much time on you
but to have wasted any time on you
is a shame on me and such an attitude could only be
an insult to you
good
it's about time you learned the insincerity
of men and their lusts
such as your numerous suitors
idle sons of privilege with plenty of time
to play your games with you
while they loaf on a family fortune
for me it was different
it was enjoying the surface play
of scent and possibility
while knowing its falsity from experience
(how age protects some of us from our folly)
but still I had better things to do
age and experience also make one weary
a life of travails to the bitter end and for what?
to be grateful to die finally?
no it wasn't a bad thing letting you go
someday if you live long enough to be a hag
you won't remember a thing about me
except my absence as you wonder
"now who was that?"
no not a bad thing at all...
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.
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