She was the society pages,
he, the sports,
& the closest thing they had in common
was that he knew how to throw a ball,
even as she knew how to have one.
She was a living doll,
he, a living legend.
He was lauded for the uniform he’d worn,
even as she was worshipped
for the clothes she didn’t.
She was postcards & thank you notes,
he, e-mails & texts,
but they were high class,
for they had enough of it to know
that breaking up should only be done in person.
(Unless that other person was a psycho.)