LOVE
LOVE
Consuming him like a great white,
consuming him like a some broken down
whore on a hot Saturday night;
then leaving him empty.
Love most foul comes and goes,
or stays like a good dog and howls.
Sometimes it blows like a discarded recite
that has been tossed to the wind.
Sometimes the wheels keep turning
as you drive, with the Kleenex piling
up by your side, and the radio turned
up way past high.
But even that cannot tune out
the high pitched scream
of her goodbye.
Every now and then when
the cruel fate of love
feeds on the gluttony of your soul;
and it eats you from within,
like empty calories and chop sticks,
you’re only hungry again.
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