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The Ex Wife

Updated on June 9, 2015

Hard To Describe

I was having lunch at a coffee shop.

She appeared at the door.

Sat at a table and seemed so smart.

I recognized her instantly, glad to see her.

Surprised and excited, I scanned her body admirably.

She caught me watching.

She is hard to describe even worse to explain.

Like the blue between clouds above the baked earth.

And rapidly approaching, a solid gray overcast sky.

Pattering raindrops, legible teardrops, floods of emotion.

All this reflected in her moods,

Like tree roots clutching the ground.

She is well centered on self.

Understands me only when I hold her

And treat her only how she wants me to.

She walked across the room tense because I was there.

Stared into my eyes as if...,

She wanted to hit me.

But nice girls don't hit men.

She walks away with dignity and grace

And an empty mind.

She degrades people beyond repair.

Like the plundered poor who have nothing

And can't be remembered.

Those sad endings come at random.

Sacred jealousies set the stage.

From twarted loves and broken pride,

She can't censor herself.

Cries when she wants to.

Ignites old feelings remembering always

Never to forgive.


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