Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Betrayal.

Betrayal.

It’s so cold.
The wind
Slips up jacket sleeves,
Invades the hood of your sweater.
You clutch my hand tighter
I smile.
Huddled against each other for warmth
On a desolate bench outside the mall,
You are mine.
But then I learn
Of how your hand found hers
Outside of Starbucks yesterday,
The same way it found mine
Saturday.
And now, all I feel…
Is angst.

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