Is it so bad to love alone?
With two arms —
and not four —
with one beating heart
and not two.
Wrapping my two arms around myself —
clutching a pillow at night —
shivering in the cold.
Is it so bad to love alone?
When in the morning —
I’ll have but two memories —
an old one with you —
and a new one without
Both with equal primacy.
Both as real in the primordial madness of the universe.
Both alive in my mind —
until my mind is no longer alive —
and love no longer has any meaning at all.