an old poem: 100 words, a poem [2010]

What a
Beauty, he told her
stroked her hair, held
her hand, touched her
cheek.
promised the air, the dirt
all to her
over and over
and over
again
until finally,
she believed him.

but make no
mistake,
there was never any single
simple
thing about it
set in stone.
it was always
up
and
d
o
w
n
with them, like
the all of us

and we believed
because it
was all we could do;
we believed it
because
we so longed to

at least, until he
left, saying
“you’ve lost
every bit
of  what I
ever
loved in you”

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