This is not a romance novel.
It’s a short ending
to a long story
you’ve heard before.
Common, lurid tale
of love and something
else.
This is not a whodunit.
Warning:
The processor is unreliable,
the data corrupt,
the files no good.
Screen version:
You run a move
he follows and lust
follows and ends.
He runs
a move
on somebody else.
You could call this a thriller
but not for you.
Defense:
There was an intimacy
to our disorder.
Until he killed it.
editors note:
How to love, hazardly ever after. – mh clay