Sans amour

Of the river

of words flowing between

them, the depthlessness

of their vicious secrecy,

a liaison I am not part of.

             — I am jealous of an ocean.

Of the petals

of poetry blooming between

them, the sweetness

of their decadent intimacy,

a tenderness I am not part of.

             — I am jealous of a flower.

Of the notes

of music floating between

them, the melodiousness

of their ordained affinity

a rhapsody I am not part of.

             — I am jealous of a starling.

These violent ravings

of a degenerate; it is I!

who claws for meaning;

it is I! who roars for loving;

it is I!

Between these lines, I line

my ever-darkening desire

to live the life of another,

meanwhile, I remain

           — a loveless creature.