No image to convey, comparison in store
no pretty words dark pictures
of what I met you for.
I'd rather deal just now
not stack and cut or cry
and act the scorned receiver
from lips to marquee'd eye
If dismissals gone mistaken-
of this I'm fairly sure-
It was not you that held hand first
to consequenced endure
To metaphor's to wander lost- amid
a chance unchartered
I'll take what's lost and slowly mend
not mourning what was bartered.
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