Love’s antithesis is not hate

It’s the apathy that follows

celebrating hollow victories

The affair once blessed

becomes the break-up twice cursed

as wedding bells signify the boxer’s next round

Devils may cry tears of joy reveling in

sins of the night and shadow dancers

but hers are depleted

Tangled first kisses and stolen moments

set the stage for destruction, swinging on a balance

as she rights the scale

Keen awareness of other indiscretions

she’s just counting bones

as she quietly closes that door and turns the key

prompts: MadVerse 459, 461, 462

photo: mine


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