i am not sorry that most of my daydreams have been taken up by love. they say you are a give and take, ever conditional lover – anything conditional like you is a risk to have. love, you see, is relentlessly giving without expectation. it is the scattered seeds of weeds, like dandelions and the free tumble weed, that grow in between hard rock while you find ground in between compromises and his give and her take. i will have none of you. see, i have been sold infinite dreams of fireworks that turn into a lull at the end. and true not all marriages are doomed but the fact that i identify you through a ring that presses hard against the only vein that goes to the heart restricts my ability to see any freewill in you. they say you are a good thing and many women die in the solitude of their beds because they still dream about you and the fantasy you sell so well. they dream in soft moans unlike the harsh tongue society has against them. maybe i love different – too much to be enticed by the sameness you possess. i hear you are hard work and i know love not to be any work but a perennial river running easy and smooth back to the ocean. have you seen the great lakes of the world? they glide without intention, only we have mapped them to see just how they travel but they have leisure and freedom. much like love – unlike you. the very reason that i get to compare you is reason enough why i will not be the one crying if i missed your train. and i am not sorry. i am not killing anybody else’s dreams but waking up from mine and mine alone.
sincerely inspired by love.