She is everybody’s best friend.

But they are not necessarily hers.

The spiritual whore lied to herself that her love spring would never drain. She kept caressing their hair and taking them to the river like Suzanne. She swore she would never drown them there like unwanted puppies. There are times when she feels tempted to just leave them there, on the river’s edge, but she can’t run away with their cries in her ears. No, it’s even worse than drowning them. She won’t let go of them. She will never let go. It’s the way things are. What she really can’t understand is why they always look INSIDE themselves. Always inside.

Where the fuck did all the love go? She doesn’t know.