Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Ides Of February

As if being single wasn’t hard enough
Romantic misadventures
Replay in opaque fuzz
More forgotten than felt
Only the confusion is clear

Pretty faces, vulnerable eyes
Haunt me this quiet morn
But their accumulation
Dissipates them
There is no One
Thank god

So I miss nobody
Her absence much easier to endure
And her wrath no more
Than the general ache of being alive

Perhaps this is reason to celebrate
The Ides of February
Another Valentine’s survived

Don Arrup
Satire1

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