Catalogue of Illusions

She flicks through
her central inner catalogue,
the one engraved on her heart,
and counts shattered illusions,
the brevity of lovers,
how quickly they depart.

Ignoring her staccato cris de coeur,
no empathy for a woman like her,
those masterful money-makers –
when it comes to the bedroom –
have no finesse,
their lovemaking’s nostrum.

She comes to the conclusion
that, after all, love is just an illusion.

Kim M. Russell, 9th July 2018

Week 197.png

My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #203

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11 thoughts on “Catalogue of Illusions

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