Dianne

Spanning the river, this bridge of stone
Has disregarded time, and it still stands
Between a pair of nameless foreign lands.
I lived on one bank with Dianne, alone,
Yearning for song, braying a monotone,
Sick with unkempt desire and aching glands.
We left our home and sold our wedding bands,
Using the funds to leave for parts unknown.

Yes, I've been lonely, but I am best so:
Dianne was no companion. She was lost
As I was lost, emotions like a frost:
Cold, thin, and transient, more an afterglow
Than real light, although heat may come too slow,
As we have since discovered, to our cost.