Why is the measure of love loss?
Maybe if I breathe slowly, hold the image, relax into it, maybe then...
I am not ready. She's coming for me. I was stalling and she told me there would be a reckoning. She warned me.
No escape.
Child, stay awake.
Why is the measure of love loss?
It's time.
No, I'm not ready. Sometimes the wind is moist and the raindrops make me cry.
It's time.
Sometimes on a cloudy afternoon, I can hear music on the wind.
It's time.
Sometimes there is chocolate cake in the oven and a mother who smiles and lets me scrape the bowl.
It's time.
Sometimes there is a glint of warmth in the eyes of a stranger.
It's time.
Sometimes there's an afterglow.
No more words.
I'm not ready. I haven't learned it. Please...I'm not ready.
Why is the measure of love loss?
Because there is no love.
Only loss.
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