before even they knew

it wasn’t that they would leave

or that I could feel them forming plans

before even they knew

no

everybody eventually gets used to loss

we have to this being part of being

no

it was the post mortems

the crying the lying:

you made me leave you

you with your wicked ways

justifying the cheating the creeping around

& all I wanted was: a peck on the cheek

some soft adios we had fun

got away with stealing horses in the night

for a little while

but now I must move on

to leave me with my bits of paper

pens pecking away at the typer the PC

alone again at least for a little while

until a new to me horse thief would pitch up in the dark

offer some fun for another little while

before they too feel the need to offer a run down

on my poor habits

like I did not already know them too well

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