The last move of every relationship is an I-told-you-so.
It's a cruel, perverse sort of comfort to know
That this surprise ends what I never thought could last.
It's a helpful head-start moving present to past,
But it's no cure.
After all, we are both in check.
You knocked the board over, and I'm squirming like heck.
If I had a one-wish genie, I'd wish to win, to be right,
and if I had another, I would wish for one more night.
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