Thanks for the joy that you spilt into my being
For a day...
Some moments of respite from the mundane

Tomorrow I go back to my emptiness
As you, perhaps to yours

Sweet Emptiness

It's funny how we succumb to love any companion
Who has been with us for longish stretches of time.

Or is it that we fear to abandon
That which we know isn't Love
But remains a comforting surrogate
Biding time.