redwinterroses

I live alone.
It hasn't always been that way.
It's nice sometimes
to open up the heart a little
and let some hurt come in.
It prove's you're still alive.

I'm not sure what it means.
Why we cannot shake the old loves from our minds.
It must be that we build on memory
and make them more than what they were.
And is the manufacture
just a safe device for closing up the wall?

I do remember.
The only fuzzy circumstance
is sometimes where-and-how.
Why, I know.

It happens just because we need
to want and be wanted too,
when love is here or gone
to lie down in the darkness
and listen to the warm.