And when they finally split
For a man who claimed to be her life
Counted the dinner plates to be evenly split
His mother silently flipped through a magazine, pretending ignorance
She had pointedly seen through her grief, grief her son had caused
You had not asked me before being together she said – how can I interfere?
There will be many more, he’s a desirable man after all and she’s not his first
Women will come and women will go – but my son will remain mine
Second chances are mistakes, this girl should have never happened
How dare she seek permanence in impermanence?
She watches the mother and son duo – in sync with the other’s charade
This is the dance they’ve danced many times before
Let me help you pack his mother softly says
I understand your pain – but you do know you have to go
You are better off without him
My son is a wanderer, a gypsy – he has no anchors where his heart is concerned
You will look at them with shattered hope glistening like shards in your eyes
Why did he start the dance at all when he had no intention of dancing, you’ll ask
He’s just a boy, she whispers
Anything shiny catches his eye.