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An Aubade Without Love

The impatient fire licks over the horizon
chasing the blanket of darkness
It creeps through the cracks in the shutters

alighting on hollowness

a painting of manufactured love
hung crookedly, concealing a couple,
paired for mere warmth.

Turn back the clock to midnight –
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Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: sex
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I wrote this 2 years ago, when I was overwhelmed and saddened by seeing my friends turn to meaningless, drunken sex simply because they wanted to 'fit in' with the crowd. I wanted to emphasize that sex should be a mature, loving act, where those involved are not recklessly unaware of the consequences it may bring.
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7/23/2021 2:53:24 PM # 1.0.0.663