She had loved Randal
Until it hurt, loved
Him black night and dim
Day in a crazy
Kind of way, the kind
That gets deep beneath
The soft and tender
Skin and bites and gnaws,
That kills off hunger,
Sleep and other things
Less worthy or so
Her all too wounded
Heart and mind decide.
She loved him in a
Way that drove her mad,
And made her want to
Possess him and his
Soul all the time, each
Passing moment of
Her life, wanted him
To love her too, make
Her his loving wife.
But Randal never
Said he loved her, or
Showed the madness in
His life that she had
Shown or searched her out
In ways that she had
Him. His was a cold
And different kind of
Love, if love it was,
The, let's-go-to-bed
And-rock-the-damned-world,
Kind of thing, or kiss
And copulating
Until dawn genre
Of love, far from that
Kind that she had sought
In her darkly hours
And long sleepless nights.
She had loved Randal
Until the day he
Went away with some
Other dame with cool
Goodbyes and sly smiles
And a thousand lies.
Copyright 2008 Terry Collett
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