Love Gone Poem by Kathy Greethurst

Love Gone



The sun scorches pink arms.
Blackened faces
wave handkerchiefs
and stomp in clogs.

I wait in the pub,
no call, no text,
drown lonely nights
in Pinot Grigio.

You arrive late.
Your silhouette,
bold as a Samurai,
darkens the doorway.

*****

I pick a fight with you
on the way to the chippie.
You accuse me
of flaunting my tits.

I tell you to leave.
You ride off,
leave your kebab and chips
on the doorstep.

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