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The story began
before his sentence
was served.
But he
remembered it
from the term.
A term he did
for love.

And love him,
that,
he truly did.
With each muscle
and bone.

Careful and capable,
he was,
Law-abiding, too.
He didn’t imagine
a faith such as this,
for a revolutionary
like him.

In a precarious
place he foundĀ himself,
Out of which
he couldn’t
wriggle.
Deeper in trouble
he sank,
as his brain
couldn’t grasp it.

Falling madly in love
with a man
was stupid,
especially
since the man
didn’t feel
the same.
Chasing him
was stupider still,
but the heart
can’t be blamed.

And love him,
he surely did.
With every muscle
and bone.

In jail,
this story
came to a stand still,
the one that never began,
In the place where it started,
the love he felt plummeted.