Portrait of all my past American lovers, in a nutshell

Photo of a spider on a web

Oh yes! Alluring they all were.
But their emotions towards me weren't exactly,
pure water for me,
but a cleverly disguised poisoned well.

They were as frivolous and capricious,
as a butterfly,
yet not as graceful in their movements.

Oh yes! Compelling they all were...
As if I did not know they were roses
of a short life and little importance, in the end.
Yet they all thought, they were all so beautiful.
But they came to mean nothing more to me,
than a useless loaf of Wonder Bread,
after they left me, cursing my life with them.

Oh yes! Innocent and pure,
they all pretended to be,
but were as dangerous as a black widow
and just as malevolent.

However, in spite of all
my damming words about them,
they also have this disturbing truth in common,
as if what I already have come to know about them,
hadn't been enough:

What they know about love
is so little... so microscopic it is...
And they all must have learned it from the wind.

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