Written by: jeffry cohan

                         AN INDIAN SHIVER

I really don’t know why she took it back
The lady lent me that which I now lack
Some men can abide losing such a prize
And to me loss, of course, is never a surprise

The lady loaned me life’s sweetest gift
Before we fell out of sorts due to a rift
It was a chasm I could not climb out of
And a cloud of cruelty I could not rise above

The woman imparted a large part of her heart
Until she rescinded a most pertinent part
She shared and bared her beauty but only for a little while
A fragmentary moment that was the function of her smile

The lady segmented my spirit seriously with her goodbye
She sliced my body with a disproportionate portion of a lie
What it amounted to was counted in the number of my tears
And now what she once lent me is tragically in arrears

I was a beggar who was never choosy in any way
And when I accepted her contribution it was a most wondrous day
She donated and denoted something that filled a huge empty hole
And now I have but a sorrowful souvenir to remind me of her soul
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