For Concerned Friends

I want to stay depressed about love,
to roll my naked soul in passion's pain
and to wallow and revel in it;
to suck the bitter teat of sadness and sorrow,
and to milk it dry.

I want to stay depressed about love,
because that despair can always change.
I could make a friend, I could take a lover,
my life could shift 180 degrees
and go off in a new direction.

I want to stay depressed about love
(it's a feeling I know, oh, so well).
Because, at 52, mortality now looms large
and I am not prepared to address that...

Yet...