Blind Apathy

He opened her and left her vulnerable.
Emotions pouring through the painted veils.
His or hers, the difference indistinct.
Sick connections, overflowing.
Pretense of their never knowing.
Feelings spawned between them both.
Blamed upon a distant host.
The mists are weeping swirls of the truth.
A distant taste of their remembered youth.
Rage and age that seemed to grow together.
Potential that had suddenly been tethered.
Denial that had forced the wait to fester.
A paper signed, the vows forgotten.
Deep inside, the mind is blinded.
Loving doesn't live there anymore...

? Michaelette ?

8/27/2004
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...