The Bottomless Well

Waste not your love.

It is too precious to be thrown into a bottomless pit,
hoping one day to create a well.

The dry leaf feels not the coolness of water,
the fickle heart cannot return your devotion.

There is no blame,
for
sometimes
that is simply the nature of things.

How long can you chase the timid fawn through the woods,
your very approach startling it into escape?

You will tire first,
and when
exhausted
you lay down to rest,
you will not be there to feel it's gentle tongue upon your cheek.

So I say to you
all who seek thirsty lips to offer the overflowing cup,

Lay such purity and innocence where is worthy

At the altar of your own being.

And then one day,
maybe,
you will drink from the bottomless well,
the fawn beside you.