The clip in her hair came undone
At the faintest touch
From any man, anywhere, at any time, and she swore
She’d never love another
As much as she loved
Herself,
Her red-gold locks swirling in the winds raging from the
Torment of her lovers’ waiting,
They’d be waiting
Forever
For the girl to say, “I choose you”—for a multitude
Of admirers
Is always better than simply
One,
Though they all had chosen just
Her,
She wore her fickle heart on her sleeve, hoping that someday
It would belong to someone else, rather than
Staying stagnant
Inside her long-cold, feebly beating
Chest;
Well he found her lying on the cold,
Hard ground
Worn out from selling herself to strangers and breaking
Hearts again and again,
She lay
And the night sky folded in on itself, covering the moon,
He reached down a hand and said,
“Sarah, why do you cry?”
Until that moment she hadn’t even realized the crystalline,
Shimmering drops on her frozen
Lashes,
And as her feet touched the ground she fell into his arms,
Saying,
“What may come,
let it be”
And they lived happily ever after,
He and she.