I live alone.

It hasn't always been that way.

It's nice sometimes

     to open up the heart a little

and let some hurt come in.

It proves you're still alive.

I'm not sure what it means.

Why we can not shake the old loves from our minds.

It must be that we build on memories

And make them more than what they were.

      And is the manufacture

Just a safe device for closing up the wall?

I do remember.

The only fuzzy circumstance

Is sometimes where-and-how.

Why, I know.

It happens just because we need

To want and to be wanted too,

When love is here or gone

To lie down in the darkness

      And listen to the warm.