Yes, you got blood out of me alright— lucky I don’t live in a glass house, although an Olympic athlete would struggle to throw anything as far as you are from me now. Only the crows can imagine my surprise when your heart grew more than cold— who was it cast first? Did we really turn over every possibility? Was it so important for you to be moss-free? You used sticks to great effect, rendered what was ours a pile of broken bones, a soup made of water. Two love-birds sundered with a single missile, the ending was fixed and…