Feelings hold no justification as the wheel of fortune turns
three eleven
two women, a man,
and an elephant in the room.
Three blades in the heart
and a cigarette tattoo.
Three dark freckles mapping a triangle on my wrist -
on the top was man, two woman at bottom, a fault in logic.
Circles scar as they trace their story down
to the ending you thought you would never
come back to.
I just wanted one lover,
my one lover wants two.