Like Nothing Happened

                          Like nothing happened, moonlight floods named streets
                          the wrong direction, masked by self-deceits
                          repeated one too many nights, then said
                          to have been known for how she made her bed
                          too far from where her lady’s heart still beats.
                          We’ve heard the gossip, crudely proud she cheats
                          herself of better than her worst defeats.
                          What then, are we to play along, lie dead
                                                    like nothing happened?
                          Tomorrow, once our history repeats
                          her bitter spite, then to her grave retreats
                          to make excuses for what blood she’s shed,
                          dry of poison her own cuts called bled,
                          we’ll start all over what but death completes
                                                    like nothing happened.


maggie based on a draft by sara


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