The emptiness you feel when it’s
over
Is why you let it fester far too
long
In daydreams you rolled around in
clover
You adored her like a lovesick
King Kong
Wet dreams don’t allow for sags
and wrinkles
The other doesn’t mind our hair
is white
Sounds of Mozart music when she
tinkles
And I imagined he would be my Knight
None of it grounded in reality
Menopause and illness curses me
Methinks My Lord is losing sanity
We fold the tent and into
darkness flee
All that matters now is bare
survival
Too late for Art or Love’s sweet revival
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