deception is not always deliberate. i woke up this morning with memories of a lost love, of a love which is still moist and warm, which can still breathe life into the dark recesses of my mind. They say you must make space for anything new to take root; that a new love shall want its legroom. Here, now...where is the space for it to deepen and take root. Shall it then abandon hope or stay and live with the old? or shall it weep for the sweet juices of an earlier love which still remains and whose luscious secrets are plenty? shall they rot together or will a new harmony be born?