Nothing Opens at the Close

It ends here.

 

What I thought is extraordinary

has become less

ordinary

 

and I’m not even talking

about Harry Potter.

 

Nothing opens at the

Close.

 

In reality

in my own fictional

non-verisimilitudinary realm–

Goodbye means

fare…

 

Well, your eyes

I thought

are hazelnut. Alas!

Your lips smudged

with pigment of what

I thought was love.

Only to discover

when you talk

a drop of saliva

spatters from

your mouth.

 

I loathe

how this petty mishap

misshaped the heart

pretty much

like a Cruciatus curse.

 

It sucks

When magic

is nothing like

your deafening

shrills that,

for strange reasons,

draw me to you like

the Imperius curse.

 

Aye, bitch.

Nothing is so extra-

ordinary. Love exists

not in my own fictional

non-verisimilitudinary realm–

 

Nothing opens at the

Close.

 

And I’m not even talking

about Harry Potter.

 

Fare…well.

 

(for Jane)

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