False Love

By
I thought she was a Jesus to me,
Dividing my life like history;
It was somber and bleak before she came.
It was 'spring like a pleasant king' after she arrived,
Like someone turning the light on again.

But when she left, she left me dead and cold,
Oblivious and overcast like Israeli assassinations;
Like thick rubber jackboots in the Kashmir character.
Like an epileptic foaming at the mouth,
Shuddering and waving like rosary incantations.



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