It had been a month
and they were still
at least
waist deep in lust,
and she was
eye high in pity
for him.
She knew his
secrets and his
shortcomings
and his life was so
move-magic-tragic
that pity tied them together
and this kind of pity was
in his favour,
this kind of pity would keep them
together,
because she called it love
and he called it love,
they thought it was
love.
They really
did.
