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A poem

Love as a pointed finger

A hand beckoning furiously

Love as a knife, carving

its way through niceties..

Love as a mask covering for

a multitude of deficiencies

Love for love’s sake

Love at love’s wake

At the death bed of all illusions

As time goes by...

Withered flowers clearly forgotten

Neglected by selective memory

Long hours spent in the dark

Feeling hopeless, seeking remedies

Anything

Anything but love.

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