Dead love

Those days you wake up and all familiar things seem strange
the only thing that stayed the same about your lover
was her name; no warm recognition in her eyes
remains only that gaze of wildness you would
see in the eyes of a bear in the forest
who will strike you down if you
stand in their way where
did the 100,001 times
you made love go
flying off some
where taking
on a life
of their
own
like
a
bird of
paradise
winging back
home to the tropics
to leave us all alone again
no recognition in our eyes like
to strangers on a bus looking past
eachother, we are not the ones we
fell in love with and professed our love
one hundred million times; words have less
substance than the wind and feelings even less
we all profess how sacred feelings are but they shift
and change like currents in a mountain stream and no
security or comfort or continuity can they offer our loneliness

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