Regret in a pink dress

My mistakes

walked away from me

in a pink dress

down memory lane

with another man

she died her hair blue

and learned how not

to look at me, with

complete disdain,

at my asphyxiated face

my saving grace

my delirium

sex, pain and regret

with impeccable taste

often dealt

at a moment’s notice

only if one cared to ask

the only question on

all our lips

is it easier to forget?

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