She of Lost Faith

The Ship called Disappointment never left Port

so the absence of Cupid’s visit could hardly

be considered anything less than consistent.

 

She lets her fingers hover over the keyboard

with a non-blonde swish of “imperfection”

she types a few words and imagines him there.

 

His eyes are open and perhaps blood-shot

as he lay upon the solid pack of floe ice

with a bottle of whiskey frozen to his glove.

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6 responses to “She of Lost Faith

  1. Not a great Valentines Day for you then? At least gave rise to this very cool little poem.

  2. Hello Dear Muse.

    give it up already?

    you’ll never do that. it isn’t in you to do that..

    in the wave cycle, there is the dip…sometimes a
    deep one,
    but there is the other…the height…

    time is not only linear, it is cyclical…and so, too
    is love, like that…(you already know this, I know)

    really…

    then sometimes it overcomes the frequency of the wave phenomenon completely…

    rarely
    but it happens…

    should we hope for it?

    No…

    should we believe in it?

    Probably not..better to be..skeptical

    but with a heart like yours dear Muse

    love does not happen to you..

    love is you.

    sincerely

    Robin

    ps..

    missed you muse

  3. I laughed so hard at this poem, because I can relate too well. Your site is cool. I think I got here through Luminata.

  4. observantbystander

    I miss you, Muse. So much.

  5. Second verse is perfection. Wow.
    Miss you and just wanting to let you know that you come into my head every now and again and I always send loving energy your way xx

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