If all he had done was lie to her,
she could’ve forgiven that,
moved on from him, her love in tow.
Instead, he plucked every flower
from her field, wrapped them
in gold tissue paper,
and sold them back to her.
Instead he wrangled every star in her sky,
pulled them to the ground,
and gifted them to her as a dowry.
She could’ve forgiven him for lying to her,
But he made her lie to herself, and that,
she reasons, is unforgivable.