Was it

Was It
Was it love?
We called it that
Perhaps because
We thought it was
Or perhaps because
We didn’t have
Another name
Was it love?
These barnacles
Of our irritableness
Against our
Starved skeletal
Was it love?
This fantasy of
Swelling fullness
Played in a major chord
Conducted without allusion
To each other, in halls
Of neural emptiness
Was it love?
I doubt it was
Though not for
Lack of trying
It simply was
The absurdity of
Loves disconnect
Was it love?
The arrow shot one
Not two of us, so for whom
Do we shed a tear?
He who was infected
Or he who missed
Loves infection
© David Kernohan

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