Yet another night

The strong October wind

kissed her hair,

pulling out stray strands from

her elegantly tucked bun,

that sat high on her head,

waiting for a lover to undo it.

She sat on a nearby ledge,

looking for the red bus,

from which the handsome girl,

always dressed in black,

alights with the graceful jump.

Over an hour passed,

but the bus did not arrive,

nor did the handsome girl,

always dressed in black.

With a fallen face, she

witnessed the sun rise,

signalling the end of

yet another passionless night.

Dejected, she ran

to the field where she lived,

curled into her wooden bed,

and cried.

The gravestone read:

Ms M. Jacob (1677–1700)

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