I thought love was true,

was real

was possible

but since she left me

alone

I have rethought

my initial thought

and have gone back to my original

thought

on the topic

at hand.

Love is not true

Love is not possible

And now the street worker

will have to sweep up my skin,

my lashes,

and my secreted ointments.

© 2004 David Greg Harth

04.05.05.24:58:56@296NYC