This futile word Love
She must have made him come
A million times since
That overheated day they met
She believed one of those moments
Would drive her the difference,
Between love and loneliness
Who programmed her for self destruct?
Such endless yearning,
Coming and going
If she could pray,
She'd ask to be released
From this futile word love,
Aspire to simple, ice water words
Splash them on her face -
Sex and lust, some tenderness
To keep her hooked
And a small chance for eternity
©J.L.Stanley
