I sought after you
once your back broke.

Your chapped lips played fiddles
against my bruised skin.

Shock therapy you called it.

Your smirk jolted
my aching heart.

Vengeful, vengeful
that’s what I called it.

The number of battered spleens
and cracked spines
and deflowered vases
I went through for you.

I wanted to escort you off the balcony
myself
but my fingers slipped.

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