Three is a Wreck

You, me, him,

three of us,

treacherous russian roulette.

Blind eyes to

his chiseled body

wrapped around you.

Bawling in bed,

next morning bleaker

than last night.

~ 3 words per line, 3 lines per stanza, 3 stanzas.

Read more about my book on Poetry Book: The A to Z of You and Me