A Poem about Love and Nostalgia

How All Love Ends

Every so often, she revisits past lovers.
Having out-grown them,
she observes the whole homo sapien:
a Thing that exists alone, solitary,
touched by nothing
as if held erect by a steel bar.

She cuts and pastes from the figure.
This happenes in her imagination,
which is an attic with antiques
covered in years of dust.

But the manikin can only last so long
as to when she stops thinking,
and then the Beloved ends how all love ends-- unfinished.

When over-filled, she spends orange evenings in this attic
sorting through the years of dusty humanity.

The nostalgic Things are kept, but the rest thrown out.

And, like that, her love is kept unfinished
and in the past.