Lonesome in Love

He barged in one day,
a complete stranger,
uninvited
trying to convince me of his tales of affection.

I appeared busy,
too occupied,
and spoke in evident silences
and a countenance
that proclaimed that he was de trop.

But he begged
and he borrowed
a few precious minutes
and assured me
how necessary it is to stay.

“It is not right to be lonesome” he said,
as if he had sensed
the empty shelves rearranging itself within me.
Incensed, I shot back
"You have no inkling"
loaded with sarcasm and brave irony,
“Of how much I’m in love!”

He paused and then added

“I better leave then...
cause I’m afraid I will feel rather
lonesome in love
if I stay.”

I stood there watching him
melt in the distance...

“Lonesome in Love!”
I sighed,
“Lonesome and in love...”
and washed down the paradox
with a gulp of 
red vintage wine...
A tear rolled down
and the immensity of the emptiness
fell in place.