She watched the parade. 

Everyday, a new woman draped on his arm. 

Each seemingly deeper into the swallow. 

They ooze sex,

Painted awards in see-through casings. 

She sits alone. 

Watching the man she loves

Spend his gifts on another. 

Each day, a year passing. 

One day he’ll be ready,

She knows,

But only after wasting the best of himself

On the less of them. 

You can only give what you have. 

But how she wishes

She could find one who would save the best for her.

Her soul,

Weary of loving the spent remains of another. 

Filthy

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