The Light Bulb 3

And what can we say about the throwing away of it?
About the casual arc, though it is alive?
What can we say about its killing?
Our killing of it, our pain?
Must we endure it or choose to kill?
Which guilt is the greater?
Whose guilt is the greater?

Romance; the pain of having and wanting,
the inverted conker shell
for our subverted pleasure.
Is it not better than nothing?
What crime is it to kill a pain only we know?
The murder of a memory, that only we know?

We.
Both of us.

We.
Is it up to me to preserve this, hold, keep, worship?
Must beauty die?

This poor thing.
What can we say about the throwing away of it?

This poor memory.
This love.
This pain.
This light.
This dark.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.