Insipid Love

Insipid love,
burnt beyond recognition;
who would identify this corpse?
Unrecognizable...
But I know Him.
I've seen him all the minutes
of my life.
I know disfigured love,
disgusting in its jealousy,
its neediness.
I know it all too well.
So well, in fact,
that I can say
    with confidence:
That is no corpse -
though someone should
probably put it out of its misery.

I just can't bring myself to do it;
I can't kill my broken love.