The Old Blog in the Desert

she snickered and sneered as she drove away/he didn’t know and pomposity refuses to say/she had shed him a number of times before/but none has stuck, till this slamming door.

nigh a quarter century has come and be-gone/finally two-thousand miles, became her dawn/she is shed of him quick-like, unwanted skin/where she is now free to be herself, begin again.

and there he stands vain-gloriously unaware/that she is gone for good and without a care/she is neither viper nor insect, newly peeled/no, her goal is to escape and to play the field.

finally he found that discarded wrapping she/left, translucent, cold, her needing to be free/where friendship is discarded in total dismay/and what an emotional idiot becomes by ended day.