I have sat in the bowels of loneliness and self-pity
Regressing into the childlike ignorance of fantasy,
My heart crushed and wrung by Romeos and gigolos,
I recanted and recounted the event of my love life over again.

I have done nothing wrong. 

I have loved full and round, expecting nothing.
The abandon of my hypnosis, confining, yet unrestricted
each moment that should have been a blissful treasure,
is swept away not unlike charred ashes, leaving me unfulfilled, alone. 

I have done nothing wrong

I have memories of boundless ecstasies and remorseless passions,
the eruptive satisfaction of knowing flesh within flesh, flesh upon flesh.
The flower that has bloomed and must renew it self through rebirth.
The woman that has loved and must love again.

I have done nothing wrong.