days, then weeks…now months since
truth’s hard flint first flashed…
igniting the undergrowth
and tangled branches
that must have always been there-
twisted into knots beneath what seemed to be
our perfect garden

the ignorance which dimmed my senses into trusting you
now glares with a ruthless radiation and white heat
that rivals the private passions of your indiscretions

how dull the light of love seems now
as reality casts its unforgiving rays
upon (the landscape of) my mind
giving deliberate form to the lies
that is not unlike the slow progress of vision the dark,

so fire succumbs to embers
as spring burns thru summer to fall,
wind stirs the ashes of heartache
i am a fool to love at all