We loved each other
Much more than to call it love,
He said ‘he had his best with me’
I wrote ‘him as my April love modifications ‘
My anguish was his life
My disasters were my mistakes
None happened, it was all a madeup crisis,
I sit on the table, and I throw my head back as we talk for long hours.
None repeated, none known.
It was all a cry of pain.