It’s called

What feels like the loss of
Feeling or a break from the
Broken-work as my love who
Is so dear and so very brittle
Falls apart at every seam and
Seems, like Humpty Dumpty,
Will never be whole again but
This is not a fairy tale not my
Own nor one we have stitched Together in tandem to keep
From crying or fight off tears
Of anger and regret. Regret
What? I did nothing wrong and
He did nothing wrong. It is, it
Is what happened and cannot
Be undone though it's undone
Us and we work broken at the
Heart or the soul and in body
And mind to fight off sorrow.
And to fight off sadness. Loss.

Tomorrow ♥️

Cool fool, not a tool
Just all dovey and in
Love-y loses sense to
Fund his senses it's a
Common problem if
A fool falls in love, he
Has no commonsense,
Looking for passion in
All the right places.
Sensation excitement
Kisses and embraces
We are all fools when
We are in love. Cool?

It’s Tuesday the 13th. In February this means that the day that follows is V-Day, a saint’s day that for no particular reason I can see is designated for lovers and intimate dinners. The ultra-romantic in me is moved by Valentines Day 💝 but today’s poem is an offering of the silly rather than the sentimental.