Seventh

Hidden in a river he doesn’t visit

Lost the shadows of everyone

He turned from in haste.

She hits her head into his banging indifference

Sometimes finding it refreshing

Sometimes exhausting;

She doesn’t know whether to laugh

Or keep turning her head to it.

 

A stream flows past a child

Playing beside it for days

Suddenly dying of thirst

Because they were too afraid

They would be swept away

To taste a drink of it.

 

Lady one got to touch his very soul

Lady two got to see his soul

Lady three he hid it from

Lady four he pretended she saw it

Lady five he swore his devotion to

Lady six gets nothing but praise

Lady seven is promised nothing.

 

Laughing, she looks at her phone

To see if maybe he said something worthwhile

But why would he?

Lady seven gets nothing

She isn’t his present

She is his

Very

Last

Choice.