The way you closed the door with practised hands
And walked to the next love in soft, lissome footsteps
Who would’ve thought you are carrying this huge burden of
Tattered wings…broken bones…burns…scars…scalds!
Why are you carrying all that, Your Highness?
Are you insane? Or unfaithful? Maybe supercool?
You have collected all the fancy Romeos
And pickled them in your caustic tears
Their bodies are dry bones now
Buried deep down in the dungeons.
You are still on your endless voyage
While the Earth stopped spinning beneath
A long, long time ago.