Poetry Journal Jan. 17, 2024

  


January 17, 2024

 I never stop loving the people I loved even when they cease loving me, you don’t close a spigot once its open, the flow just goes where it will and all you can do is flow with it, suffering through the droughts when they come, drowning in the floods, the unpredictable nature of it as varied as weather, the need of it outweighs the burden you carry when loves becomes something other than you presumed, that soul you held your heart out to remains the same, even in the varying degrees of hot and cold, the on and off, the rage she might express in response, love is love, no matter what.

 

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