Darling, I saw the ending before we even began.
I knew you were a player
with your well-rehearsed romcom script
John Cusack smile and man-of-the world swagger.

I surrendered to the sport
of hunting the hunter,
leading the minotaur into my labyrinth
walls inside walls—
you didn’t know if you were going or coming.

Even though our post-coital confessions
comforted me in the rosy-cheeked aftermath,
I counted on your withdrawal.
I needed you to play your part. If you cared,
there would be no poem.

—Candice G. Ball

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