Death of Love

Giving up on love changes you
It slows you down
Even your pulse 

Bodily functions turn against you
Especially your digestion
Weight sees no reason to burn
Nothing burns,
Especially not your imagination,
Which used to run ahead like a child 
At a feverish pace
Gathering fancy frocks and bright lipsticks
To be the prettiest at the daydream
Your eyes even become fixed
A steady sage stare
Especially good for discerning the things you'd missed all those years
The way the crickets have multiplied
The starlings are disturbed by the weather
The way the house creaks and cracks like a splintered ship run aground
The books you can now focus on

Your thoughts plucking words like flowers to adorn your dreams

A wreath of sonnets and novels

An Easter bonnet of tales

For the long dark hours 

Especially for the way your body wants only rest. 

So tired now 

So utterly tired.