No one you know, but let’s say a woman, pretty. Not beautiful.
Her man, also not bad looking, though his age is starting to show.
At one time, she remembered to pick him up a sandwich for lunch
and he would start her bath when she was on her way home. But at the end,
you know, the end, he remembered to pinch her stomach after she overate
and she would taunt him about how he cheated on his ex-girlfriend
(with whom he was still in love) with a hooker. This was only the first trick:
the real way to hurt each other had nothing to do with the other.
The second trick? Love did not stay. Sorrow did not leave.
And the dog, as always, took the real hurt, left
in the neighbor’s care
indefinitely.
