The rain poured
Lightly against 
The windowsill 
With discontinued strokes

The crackle
Of a fireplace
Played dimly 
In the background 

Her sigh was quiet 
As she lay there 
Wrapped in furs 
Sipping coffee 

Her lover 
Was late 
As usual 
Of course 

Valentine’s 
Wasn’t that important
There was nothing
Special at all 

It was just
Broken hearts
And 
Shattered bones 

Welded together 
With cheap 
Whiskey and 
Bourbon

So she sat
Not only 
Wrapped in furs 
And sipping coffee

But in 
A warm lover’s
Embrace 
And drinking freedom
Through a straw.

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