Unloving Is An Art

The epiphenomenon of perpetual love,

On the face of the absence bestowed,

Bringing an irretrievable emptiness,

Grappling with impermanence around;

And those transcendental manifestations,

From our numb toes to my cold feet,

From fertile lips to fallow,

From prolonged stares, to glances;

And those transcendental manifestations,

From our numb toes to my cold feet,

From fertile lips to fallow,

From prolonged stares, to glances;

Just prolonged stares in the vacuum,

Prevailing monologues,

Perpetual hopes;

And unheeded reins to stop, 

For summer awaits me;

What can I say about unlove,

When love is in denial,

What about death,

When millions met before,

What about going,

When I'm walking in myself;

To come out in being,

I measure the depths of my love,

Every day but once,

To make sure it grows,

But not in my emptiness,

Not in my voids;