She speaks of love. Almost too often. Some have difficulties in expressing – terrified to utter the words. But she is unrestrained. Nothing to suppress the utterance. A stream of verbal hearts. And impassioned proclamations. Yet they eventually ring hollow. Just words. Manufactured sentences.

I think of love in all its manifestations. Genuine declarations. Lust. Spiritual embrace. Adam and Eve. Thrilling. The perfect slice.

Words.

But the tears return. Nausea. I taste bile. I taste defeat. Regret returns, like every other day.

Big sleep beckons.

Cleanse the pain. Now and forever. Slumber.

Eternal.