Puddles

In the pools I mop up,

From vases turned over,

I often see your reflection.

It’s  Valentine’s Day again,

And you bring me flowers that are

So fragrant and red–

Simply scented to mask the smell of your cheating.

I hear the girl’s voice echo from the bottom of the vase

I see her reflection with yours.

You keep calling to apologize;

To tell me you love me, but

I never pick up–

Instead I buy myself flowers.

 

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