Fair Trade

“Lying bitch”,
he tells himself,
quietly, but with venom.
While at the same moment,
taking it back,
knowing it was not meant.
But merely pride’s need,
to cover the pain,
with anger.
He reads her words,
“I’ll always love you”,
and has to laugh,
Unsure of disgust,
hurt, shame, or lust.
Love was something,
she had given him,
in months of passion.
Understanding and joy,
an introduction to a life,
he thought was unreal.
Though they never met,
she touched him deeply,
and he her, so he thought.
“Stupid old man”.
He mutters to himself.
Lasting love with her,
young, wonderful, sexy,
intelligent goddess?
Not in this lifetime.
He straightens himself,
wipes tear from cheek,
and begins to smile.
At least, at least,
he confides to himself,
she had given me something,
a glimpse of my heart,
long forgotten,
the soul long denied,
the passion concealed,
in meaningless lust.
She dug this from me,
showed me the joy,
of my life’s potential.
Yes, she has given me much,
and taken away herself,
A fair trade perhaps,
but not one I sought.