Love is a shiny bauble glittering in the dark, ephemeral, the feel of smoke through your fingers. Love is a warm light pushing back the darkness of night and its funerary shadow. Love is a carrot dangling, a lure for the unwary, snaring the soul but evaporating without substance. Love is the promise of better days that goes unfulfilled, leaving me bitter and brittle. Love is a luxury I can't afford, an indulgence I will never know, an empty promise. Love is pain.