Inevitably,
we wake to
an inscrutable restlessness
feeling our mutual masochism:
the perfunctory invasions
the passive depletions.
Presently,
we are united only in our regret for
what has been lost and
resentment of the instinctual and
inherent pull.
Fearfully,
we persist, because
we know that partings do not always lead to better things.
Silently,
we endure until
the fear of paralysis becomes greater than
the fear of the unknown.
Finally,
we part, but
the taste of the old love lingers
in our memories
forever
like the tastes on the tongue:
bitter, sour, salty, and sweet.
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