The forgone conclusion
Ridicules the wobbling riddle
Prelude is just a beginning
Of many, the pretenders that line up
On the heart’s stage. First date is just a duel
Of collect-me-white lies.
Man looks at the window
And shops for little gadgets with increasing memory power
And thrilling features, and yet remembers
The brick sized Alcatel that was
His first love.
Lust dons a red dress and lets it slip
To the ground to unveil a lily-white corset.
Life has so many witty clauses
In absent endings and one sentence
That completes itself on her own.
Need I say more?