just another love poem

mistaken love is no calmly aging river.
that love is knotted and ugly and stark.
it is the dam where all that mud and grit and
fish crap has coagulated into a hard wall,
choking and clogging the water.

it is like a starving man who dreams about food and
wakes up feeling very raw and very empty.
it's like that, only it's every inch of you that aches.

that love is not the tulle of carbonation
that seeps through bones like so much Perrier.
No,

it is a dream that cannot be dismantled.

it is unrequited barrenness,
for all they say of love is true:
but mostly it is stagnant,
it is feeling very still and very alone.