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