#Micropoetry Monday: Love and Anti-Love

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He was fire,
she was ice,
& together,
they created a new gene pool.

Her first taste of love was bitter—
like a pill she couldn’t swallow.
Her second taste had the aftertaste
of the first.

The love of my life was the love
of someone else’s life.
When she passed away,
I became his.

When the new model took him,
only to discard him like a broken toy,
he came back, only to find
she had outgrown the toy.

He had the facts,
she had the figure,
& together,
with a dozen eggs
& a little seed,
they created the
12 Tribes
of Utah.

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