Nothing Opens at the Close, Bitch

It ends here.

What I thought is extraordinary
has become less
ordinary

and I'm not even talking
about Harry Potter.

Nothing opens at the
Close.

In reality
in my own fictional
non-verisimilitudinary realm--
Goodbye means
fare...

Well, your eyes
I thought
are hazelnut. Alas!
Your lips smudged
with pigment of what
I thought was love.
Only to discover
when you talk
a drop of saliva
spatters from
your mouth.

I loathe
how this petty mishap
misshaped the heart
pretty much
like a Cruciatus curse.

It sucks
When magic
is nothing like
your deafening
shrills that,
for strange reasons,
draw me to you like
the Imperius curse.

Aye, bitch.
Nothing is so extra-
ordinary. Love exists
not in my own fictional
non-verisimilitudinary realm--

Nothing opens at the
Close.

And I'm not even talking
about Harry Potter.

Fare...well.

 (for Jane)