do you remember the day we moved in?

potted plant
Photo by Antonio Prado on

The day we moved in to that little place

We walked to the store, and bought red wine

And little squares of sweetest chocolate.

Shall we get one of these? you asked,

Holding aloft the cactus we shared.

It was small and tacky and I shrugged one shoulder;

I could think of better things to buy

With hard earned money made by scrubbing

Tables, floors and walls on knees.

We bought it anyway, and placed it on the sill,

Where I’d stare at it when you were out.

We called it Betty, and she was like a child;

A spiky offspring, hell bent on hurt.

Betty lasted longer than we did,

Eventually lost, in a move through heartbreak,

Probably finding her obstinate way

Into the life of someone better,

Equipped and loving and falling in lust.

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