Yes, I regret it,
not going,
not being there to
witness it all,
the court room drama,
the parade of people
this one last glimpse
of her
in all her finery,
a queen bee floating
through the musty air,
looking all so
powerful
while mortal men
quake
at the thought she
might sting
yet, I don’t regret it,
having already
collected
all those visions of
her,
pleasing or painful,
the girl in the lobby
wearing a sun dress
and sunglasses,
the stern
professional
parading up the stairs
passed me,
the images she posted
deep in the dark of
night,
her face more angelic
than demonic,
though always just as tempting,
it is not worth the
risk,
even for a last
glimpse,
even knowing
I may never see her
in the flesh again.
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