By Arty Fischel

I didn’t cry

when you ended us.

But,

of course,

it did hurt.

Of course I felt

the tell-tale feeling

of my stomach

sinking.

My heart had

become an angry bull

bucking wildly in my chest,

suddenly released from

its pen by the

impending doom

that your words had

delivered.

But there were no

tears,

no unstoppable sobbing.

It was as if

I was saving my tears.

Editor: Leo Milmet