Filthy...

The residue of love shadowed the tear drop that rolled down her face.

Too much in awe to wipe it off or maybe just too scared that it would never returned...

she continued to cry.

To weep for a man who lifted her up...

just to quickly hide the dirt that developed after an impromptu dusting of his heart.

This chore, only accomplished because he met someone...else.

Not prettier or smarter or funnier - just newer.

Not stained...by his needs of course.

Not polluted...by his mental, no, soul abuse.

Not contaminated...by his seed, one that will flourish, to further besmirch the other half of the human race.

Not filthy...like how he leaves them all.