Sliced in half his love
Put her pieces aside like fillets
Dug a pit and made her fill it
Took note of what she wore
He rattled about without her
Mopping her blood from cushions
She lurked in the shadows
Growing eyes on potatoes
Her staying would lead to no good
She dug a well as deep as sleep
Climbed down in it to brood
Thought on all his thoughtless crimes
While she decomposed in gentle times
Nourishing the truth she would keep
He placed a lid on the well
Hammered it shut with compassion
Her scratching nails against boarded rails
Testimony to how true love fails
When trust is no longer in fashion
© shaun patrick green
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