Love and loss

An allegory

Part 1 Old love

Tossing my bathrobe onto the dirty pile,  
    I splashed cold water over my face to wake up.
Walking my dogs to Starbucks, I ignored their hints,
    Regretting my short summer frock flapping in the wind. 

 My outfit showed off the last bloom of youth for him.
    Two admirable nipples complained of the cold.
He was my first lover, and I would be his last.
    We will not toast our anniversary in June.

On his balcony overlooking the Hudson,  
    Stands my brave Charles, his lovely silver hair gone.
We split a bottle of beaujolais saved till now,  
    Sunset spares me the painful sight of his disease.

He handed a fat envelope with parting kiss,  
    I counted it in front of him as usual. 
It was the last thing he could do for me, and now,
    Calling each bill aloud, my final act of love.

Part 2 Young love

That evening in the neon nightmare of downtown,  
   Juliette entered a bar with couples dancing,
Her Romeo impatient for her arrival,  
    His manhood erect with visible desire.

Every glance and touch pulsed in the flashing lights,  
    Their connection ignited, fervent and throbbing. 
Repeated heated couplings he booked overnight,
    Their tryst consummated, his desire sated.  

In soft aftermath of Romeo's attentions,  
    Her mind drifted back to sweet Charles’s tender art.
A moment of jealousy swept Romeo’s face,  
    As if he read her thoughts, which had wounded his pride.

Speaking the painful truth to douse the jealous spark,  
    I told him that our youth, though fierce, would fade with time.  
In cruel passage from youth to age, from love to loss,
    Living lovers crowd out the past, and pay my bills.