Experience

We meet each heartache
head-on
always swearing
to ourselves
to never again
become
a lovely tragedy.

Why is it, then, that we
still give away our hearts,
whole
or whatever remnants of whole
we have left?

Do we love sooner
because we have
loved before?
Or do we recognize love
as every thing
the past was not?

Love is a constant feeling
within us
but its external appearance
is constant in its
change.

Is it possible to love
the same way
                      twice?

Already I tell my reflection
that tomorrow we
begin anew.

Already I will love again, but
I am keeping
my love with you
safe,
if ever you choose
to come back.

9/5/09 -- 11:38 PM