the way her love shattered
into a thousand fragments,
each a tiny mirror reflecting
a magnificent sunburst,
blinding her soured vision forever.
And all she had done
was ask him,
ask him in a quiver,
'Did you fuck her?'
to which he lied,
the bastard slipped,
so that the truth hit her.
She knew it was over.
Zaina Anwar 2010
7 comments:
Powerful and direct – and a chance for me to learn a new word too; ephemera.
Thanks for this.
All the best, Boonie
Thank you.
good work.....
sounds like it's over, I apperciate the bluntness in which it is written.
Thanks, jb. Yes, sometimes the bluntness comes through, whether I like it or not.
Bittersweet. I can feel the pain in this one, and for that reason it is beautiful.
It has me hoping for the strength enough to wait for the dawn. Also, love the title.
Thank you, Scrybe. The best response I've received to this poem has been from Pisces Iscariot who merely wrote, "ouch". I couldn't stop laughing.
Straightforward...
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