Drips from love’s faucet
Just enough to wet my lips,
Never enough to quench my thirst
But I go back for hungry sips,
Suckling on its teat
That gives only drips.
Slow…
Cautious…
Drips…

Drips from love’s faucet
I wish for more but that’s all I get.
A dampened reminder of its saturation
When my heart was infected
With such emotions.
But,
Now it only drips
Flavored conditional
Rationed by the skeptical
Clogged and suppressed by the rational,
All mostly dying for just a drip.

Should I keep drinking from love’s faucet,
Or be healed from its sickness
Settling into the modern curse of logic,
Give up the reality of possibilities
For clear reasons and darker nights.

I struggle to remain hopeful.
As the drips slow
My heart begins to numb
And I become more of a cynic.
Drowning in lust
But doubtful about love
More so
With every soured drip.