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Laura, I realise
Love is no libation
It involves us in sadness and loss,
Informs the child of its broken heart
Where the whims of fancy perish
On the harsh rocks of reality.

She formed words from others
I wrote poetry to please the masses
Useless words for useless minds
She said, I tried to elicit other kinds
Laura, saying, one day all this –
The gesture expands, creating the world.

Having heralded the useless approach
I abandoned myself to frailty,
Locking those tearful eyes of hers
Into the elements of laughter.
Drowning.

Apart from that, nothing new.
I loved her, as I was meant to.
She loved me, evidence there is,
But the skilful expletives of life
Ripped us apart.