No More Love Poems

By Steven Glifford

The world goes through a growth spurt during a shower:

A jigsaw puzzle of wood and glutinous darkness,
swishing elsewhere liquidly, owns a

roofless heart,
a reflected candelabra without an originator.
Legions leap eons with subtle intensity.
Black fire pulls back to an underground city of the blind. 

People radiate objects.

Leukemia is sleeping. A once only child
plays solitaire among company, resisting to glance at a

divorce of time. the living room hovers in the middle.

A hinted life passes by. Invisible falling.

Category: Poetry