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It’s so clear the way she stole you,
Wrapped you tightly round her finger just,
Like a ring decked in fetid lies,
Whose acrid smell taints my world with rust,
Green as my acid glare.

The bitter taste won’t leave my tongue,
The grating of teeth wearing to dust,
The sour wine to toast she’s won,
As I finger the rose whose thorns do lust,
To tear her down to size.

I set beside that rose of mine,
The shiny apple smooth to the touch,
Laced with want, a poison divine,
To knock her off that wretched crutch,
She’s found in leaning on you.

I wait in ambush, like a snake,
Flaunting my trap before her eyes,
Dead-set on the choice she’s bound to make,
That will become her own demise.

She floats by, arms locked in a gentle gait
With you who won’t stand where I stand,
Not once heeding the lethal bait,
That’s already eaten through my hand.

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