clinging to corpses

no one loves as hard as one in the cusp of losing it all

maybe one who has nothing left comes close

new love burns like a comet tracing through the cosmos, unaware the brighter it burns, the faster it melts

but love on it’s last legs is inversely proportionate, the one who cannot let go gives everything like a pipe about to bursting, the other diverts the flow to just a trickle

love in the face of nothing is bitter like lemon rind, the scent brings sharp memories dancing while the taste is nothing like the sweet pulp from before

no one loves as fiercely as the one desperately clinging to the corpse of love

misplaced as it is

except for the one with nothing, hoping to once again taste sweet nectar

more the piteous fool

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