Then …

Then she was beautiful 

Then she was fine

But even then she never was mine.

And I thought then was my moment

I thought then was my time

I thought then – even then – was time for my rhymes.

And so then it was that minute 

She then said soon I’d only be happy 

If then I might forget and drop all my goddamn nonsense poetry.

And then I thought how very wrong she bloody fuck it was 

And then it was true it formed my identity 

And then it was clear I’d be unlikely to obey.

And so then it turned out 

That actually then I was wrong: 

No lips would then touch my lips in passion.

No lips would then ever touch mine at all

No handsome woman would then again phone my call

No lovely voice would then embrace my body full.

In truth, then, quite ridiculously 

I then made a fool of myself 

In truth, then, it’s true:

My life is over.

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