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She spent her fortieth birthday alone.
It's fine. It was an opportunity
to reflect on all the ways she'd grown.
All the ways she was better off
without him.
He had left because...why had he left again?
She slept too much, he said
She didn't look at him as a man
He had saved her after all
be grateful.
So what, if she still liked to sleep till noon?
She preferred the nighttime wakefulness,
The wine, the books, and the moon.
She could be alone, far away
from his nagging.
Maybe she should have put more effort in
Tried to listen, to empathize
She knew he loved her, it had been written
True loves kiss had
awakened her.
Or, perhaps he had only loved her in his way
Perhaps that witches curse was still at work
Maybe the right guy would arrive, any day
And break the spell
And wake her up.
She still slept a lot, after all.
Sometimes past noon.