Click here to hear the poet read his words:
love
first love
is exactly that
the first time ever
anyone has loved
like you do
forget
Romeo and Juliet
Anthony and Cleopatra
even Homer and Marge
this is the real thing
and when it ends
so does the world
last love
is very different
you know
it’s been done before
by you
and everyone else
and
you also know
that when it ends
the world will spin on
with burning indifference
but
it is in its own way
infinitely sadder
because
you are now old enough
to know
that it will never
come again
that you won’t ever
feel your heart
leap and race
out of control
at the touch
the sight
even the thought
of that special someone
the one who will
forever
be your
last love
Sound Bite Fiction 
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Perhaps every new love story has a different flavour but I’m not sure I can ever be certain when the last one comes or if I could ever give up on the thought of the excitement. Your poem is wonderfully whimsical.
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I love that you’re still optimistic, Lindsey, but I doubt if there’s anyone out there who’s good enough for you!
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Ah, first love, poignantly captured, the freshness, the totality.
And then the journey on…
Thought-provoking and gentle.
Love that Homer and Marge found their place in the great love stories!
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Dinna fash, Jenne, next week it’ll be back to blood and mayhem!
I would have included Popeye, but OO was a bit flighty at times.
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Love. A fascinating word. Does it adequately express true human emotion without a plethora of added adjectives, adverbs, etc, to further define said feelings. I think not. There is an eternal quality to love, I believe. An essence of forever-ness, if you will. All the more poignant when felt at a distance from the one you love, B. ♡
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Hi Penny, I should have known that if any poem would draw you back here, it would be this one. What a delight it is to see you, and read your words, as thoughtful as ever. And you are right, as always, love is indifferent to time and distance. B ♡
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