Lust is borrowed; love is eternal. Rumi

Her beauty seduced her soul
and formed her to believe
she was irresistible.
Men melted at her touch.
Touching made her untouchable.
They came to her body to worship.
She could not hear their prayers.
She took them to her body
and let them cry out in ecstasy.
There were many too many
to bother with any specific one.
Affection never entered into it.
She was the great love of her life.
Now she is eighty seven.
The beauty that seduced her
long ago departed her life.
She lives by herself with six cats,
waiting for the lonely end,
her lovers’ bodies long decayed.
The Television blares in a corner.
Her cats smile famished smiles.
She doesn’t miss what she never knew.
Desire has faded to memories.
No love potions remain to brew.
Death is the only lover left to come.

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