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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Melodrama · #1941832
What of Madame Bovary at death? How would she feel? Maybe, this?
Emma, no longer Madame


Why do I linger here?
What are these shadows that move around me?
Where is my Beloved?
Leon, oh, Leon
Why have you forsaken me?
Leaving me abandoned to this forlorn place,
Who is this man clinging to an empty shell weeping.
There is no comfort I could ever give him,
Not in life
Not, now in death.


Leon,
How could you no longer seek our passion consecrated room?
That room,
That place where we were
Rapturously transported to euphoric bliss.
That place were pleasure was
the prize.

All I see here is throbbing grief and injury.
Injuries I caused
but
do not care,
I am bound to this moment
Never to see your face
Feel your touch
Kiss your
Lips.

Is this my end
or
will it be replayed
until
repaid?

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