I’m not the one
who chooses
You do
Girl picks boys
And he’s lucky
To have her,
The painted lips
The shadowed eyes,
The tight hips
The becoming thighs
Bait to bait me
And I always bite
Taking the hook
So keep inside
I can neve yank it out,
Living with the cut of it
If I move wrong
Or think too much,
Even though you’ve
Cut the line
Returned me to the pond
From which I came,
I will always feel the barbs
Stabbing at my heart,
Each time recalling you
And yet,
I still ache for it,
Hook, line and sinker
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