love is a lawless vacant land
where insects used to hum
before they all died off for reasons
mostly unrelated to love

love once covered all the oceans
deep and creaking as a crust
clouds will suck up love and loose it
weather does what weather must

love is a burning empty building
still believing you'll return
parched and hollow as cicadas
love is a scrub whose love you spurn

where did you go you lakes and rivers
where is the sea we used to sink
love is the ghost of a golden spring
from which we can no longer drink