You were the hunter and I was the prey,
the joke of a couple of English majors.
I’m leaving this note and a gift for you,
the champion who finally ensnared me.
Remember how I kept sidestepping you,
but with each thread you tied me up tighter?
Though I longed to get back to my single days,
I was finally tangled up with you.
We went to City Mill for a lock and that key
we could symbolically toss away forever,
a sign that we swore an eternal love,
a signal that romance makes you crazy.
But that was then and the passion was great,
lifting us to heaven’s heights for a while.
How strange, don’t you think, that I ended up
the one locked in our cage by myself?
Amazing how you took off hunting again,
then found someone else to ensnare,
even brought back your prize to introduce to me,
built that triangle like a math major.
Anyway I went back to City Mill today,
and I bought you this packet of seeds.
If you like you can plant them, they’ll flower once a year
if you want to be reminded of this.
Reminded of the way you picked our lock like a thief,
and how much I wish you’d loved me.
How easy it is for a heart to break
when the hammer’s brought down by a friend.
Take care, oh great hunter, how you track your game,
you may find those roles dangerously reversed,
and your game may end up caging you all alone,
a signal your game has played out.