Perhaps this dream has not been lost,
so much as, worn itself out.
All good things must end, they say
and we were good, except
lately it’s hard to remember how that felt.
I know what needs to be done.
Cannot bring myself to do it.
Where does love go, when it’s just gone?
This slow disintegration
is detrimental to us both
we should just rip off the proverbial band aid
and say goodbye.
2/12/24
Karen McCaskey 