What the Sun Knows
As if somehow the deep emotion of the poet
could ever represent what we have, even for
an instant. I allow my brain to be comforted
by these lies. We are madly in love and
nothing else matters. The end will never come
and we will move forward each day feverishly devoted.
In the morning, when the sun awakens the truth,
I remember we are merely two strangers hurt by
circumstance, spending each night clinging to
one another in a futile effort to quiet the pain.
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