tales of lost love
lost, not because it was bound to,
not lust mistaken for love,
not a fake image that faded
nor helpless attempts to project
vague, inner pictures of love
and its possible potential
but true tales of lost, true love
that slipped through someones fingers,
though not by accident,
as the fingers were filled with regret
from the moment they started to spread
such tales
make me wanna knock myself unconscious
