up
as a paper doll
in blouse and skirt
and knitted shawl
and it’d hurt
between the lolls
when he didn’t call

He cut me
down
as an old oak tree
with tainted words
dropped to my knees
cut me in thirds
in a fell swoop breeze

He cut me
in
the spring
as tulips bloom
cut all my heartstrings
not to resume
this threadbare fling

He cut me
out
of his life
with a pen
not a knife
and then
took a wife