He wasn’t particularly tall.
His hair wasn’t quite black.
His eyes weren’t green enough to show me the sea.
But he had a magic smile.
My mother didn’t like him.
My father called him scum.
My brother threatened his life.
But his people said he was a king.
Lives travel faster than the truth
he smiled
and I cried.
He promised to love me like he loves his dogs.
The dogs he makes sleep outside, in the cold.
He said he’d love me like he loves his horses.
The horses that pull his wagon.
He told me he’d love me like he loves himself.
Harshly, Coldly, Perhaps not at all.
My love swore that his love would never die.
he told me that I was his.
but.
he forgot to say that he was mine.