the fiction love wrote

this is the last poem I write to a girl made of confetti
the last time I give my heart to one more line
no more anguish over something I've yet learnt
mathematically speaking
all obsessions adding up to a glassy silhouette

a final goodbye to a boyish bravado
my bow to a gentleman's wish
my latter being a cold harder reality
that these thoughts and dancing lines of flighty poetry
have wasted time better spent