Erosion

I loved her then. I'm almost sure I did,
And I loved driving off at lunchtime
From our dreary jobs, she was in rates,
I wrote reports on fluctuations in
Consumption, to cafes and fast-food
Joints, and bright and ardent conversation.
Soon enough, for unknown reasons,
Did she want to help me to escape the dreadful
Work I did, or was she worried that I loved
Her?, she found me another job, a really
Nice one, far enough away that we could
Never meet, and, there, alone, I felt
Fulfilled. I left that job in time, and left
The city that I shared with her. We still
Have lunch a couple times of year, but I
No longer love her. I love no one.
I no longer even like myself.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 46 times
Written on 2020-09-11 at 01:03

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