The Death of Love

and until this moment
I did not believe it over:
but now it is - I am dead
inside, I feel nothing, and
I have lost the meaning of
love for the first time.
You made love with the sex
and not with me: I could
have been anyone under you
that you found attractive.
I felt closer to you after
when your arms were around me
and you held me close
like you meant it.  But
you are not here, and your
other head is filled with
new life.  There is no room.

Until this moment I did not
believe it over, but as you
left, a door closed in my
heart and the body coupling
did not matter.  I am stranger
to myself with this new 
ground: you are anyman
and I am woman left alone:
as it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be.

How can I love now
when I know not what it is?
It always all boils down to this:
doors, and ends, and silence.
I cannot fight it, the only
treasure I have is mine, is me.

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