Through-out time I’ve seen men like you destroyed by this same madness, cross-eyed, weeping, howling to the moon and stars,
scribbling promises they cannot keep, stars they cannot touch, diamonds they cannot buy, and an eternity that they cannot live or even measure,
star-crossed boys who believe they know everything but spout drivel from milk-stained mouths fresh from the teats of their mothers,
Through-out time I’ve seen men—boys who think they’re men—falling to their knees on this subject! Love! BAH! Delusions! Illusions! Deceptions!
prey to their own fantasies and imaginations!
Drink, drink, drink.
it is not your fault that I pour bitter words on this topic, it is merely the wine: in vino veritas! I speak a drunkard’s truth.
you son of man living in a world of absurd standards, brainwashed to believe that all that is beautiful is good and if otherwise is not,
you son of man believe that love at first sight is true, that fairy-tale happy endings are real and not worked for, that there is only one true definitive no-lie-this-is-real love, skin deep,
you son of man willing to let one blood-engorged head convince you: this is real! seal the deal! over the cautious whispers of your own heart, that head persuading you that love need be only physical, nothing more,
you son of man who can light the fires of passion brighter than a bonfire in a starless night, can leave it even before the embers cool walking out that bedroom door,
you son of man believe that she has to change into your ideal, for her to fit into your perception of perfection gives definition to the stupefaction and bastardization of this beautiful, yet simple four-letter word,
Oh son of man how you have been misled.
How strong the arrows of Cupid that you see only what you wish!
How heavy the lessons ingrained in you by media, by society, by a father’s sin—that love is a one-night encounter!
How many more broken hearts must there be?
take the arrows out from your chest, the blinders from your eyes, the wax from your ears,
you will find yourself returning years later to this night, to these wine-soaked words of mine—give it time and go past the physical measures,
see her, appreciate her, accept everything that makes her strong and be the hand that holds her when she is weak,
but most importantly understand her, for once time steals the color from her hair and lines it with channels of laughter and tears you will find that part of her time cannot take,
you will find her always in that secret smile you two will share,
you will find yourself always in love when you give it time.