Dissertation
I wrote a dissertation
a tome of love
every lengthy page
was filled with you.
And when done,
ten thousand or more words
I read and read again
until the melting of my eyes,
Blinded by the light, then,
when darkness crept the lawn,
the lampposts glowed,
bowls of amber radiance.
The emptiness of time
spoke to me of roses,
perished by the frost,
bouquets black with ice.
I took each page alone,
played love me, love me not,
and in the mouth of flames
laid each to burn at rest.
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