In his story
she had become a footnote
of which he recalled
as vaguely as possible
the abridged version.

Unaware, he retold the re-edited
special edition of that pestering splinter to anyone who would take time to listen.

Sometimes so proud of his latest draft, he smiled before extending his hand to collect an admission fee, then, directing his audience to their assigned seats, he began:

She felt the need to leave
her reasons unbeknownst to me
for I am a perfect and kind soul
my heart did beat only for her
and admired her as the fisherman his sea - her reasons, I don't know.