Fri, 08/02/2013 - 16:24 -- npeer

Love is a mirage,

In reality a desert dry and granulated

An old film, lost in the catacombs of cinema.


Marriage is an idea.

In practice an institution consummated on paper

Baby’s breath and celebratory rice quickly swept away


But then there is me, alone.

There is nothing fake,

No deceit.


Never to taste compassion on my lips

Never to share myself with anyone

To never risk a broken heart


Sacrifices I am not willing to make for love.


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