every time I told someone that I stopped loving 'em there was no guilt, not a speck of concern for the person, instead I felt proud for being able to move on: I didn't realize it is the receiver who must be able to ditch these and move on, with peace; acceptance wore monstrous curtains when it approached me with bare reality, I have unloved a thousand bodies and remade hundreds of beds before I fell in love with you; so, unloving sounded smooth and less disastrous until the day I saw you crushing cigarettes, stamping dungs, sobbing loudly-- incapable of confessing that you started unloving me,
