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The Poet And The Lonely Lady

one summer a poet writes about
true love
and happiness
and this lonely lady
chances upon the lines of this poet

and she has tasted the sweetness
of happiness that love can bring

she loves every word in the poem
feels the ecstasy of every line
and every night
she says she cannot sleep
thinking, feeling,
wanting to be lost and be held in
his arms

she decides to love
the poet
ultimately
she travels to the place stated in his address
hoping to see him
so she will finally know
his love that touches her
in the bottom
of her heart

only to find out
it is sad
that the address does not exist
and the poet does not live there
and does not even
exist
perhaps only in the imagination
of those who want to love
and be loved

she is so sad she jumps into
a conclusion that love is a
lie
that the poet is a
liar

since then, she stops reading the poems
of that poet
(or any other poet)
who never dies
because he for once never ever lived
in the first place

except the poem
perhaps
which to date still convinces lonely ladies to live and believe
to love and be loved

that which defines
what love is
where love is found

and find it somehow in the arms of one
who is real, like it is alive, like it is true
to the one beside her
who touches her
with his
warm hands
who melts
her in his eyes

because
even unwritten by any poet

this love is still so beautiful....

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