Poems ✍️
Poems ✍️
27.08.2026
3
Final
When he asked her to stay,
when he pleaded and begged,
when he reasoned with logic
she just stood by the door,
briefly smiled with her lips
and, in a gesture of finality
slowly, with delicious sterility,
rotated her oval Madonna's head
left to right, silently, beautifully.
There was no need to read her lips.
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