Do we earn the spurn
of a lovers sneer,
or is it merely a 
thinning of the skin
over the soul of 
one we cherished,
allowing love to escape?

Is love truly everlasting
trapped in the 
mummified remains
of centuries old dead.
Exhumed and sent airborne
from the dust of their dreams,
only to be inhaled by later
generations who 
eventually become allergic 
to its pollination?

What is that 
velvet hammer
that sends hearts
into the state of being
impaled together, 
but then torn asunder
by the gentlest whim
or fancy of another.

Love is but a shallow brook
babbling sweet nothings
over the wallows of loneliness,
one is swept away
then wept away,
leaving only dry beds
empty of what was.

Art~Whimsically Yours Studio

Matthew f. Blowers III-(c)-2016