a question among lovers

walking deep through a forest of empty bottles and rusted cans, i trip over lines i used to cross without wondering what was beyond the moment. everything takes on the form of the ones we once loved and we hate the idea of ever loving again, at least until it's convenient to mistake fondness for love, in which case i am wrong and you were never right. before you can walk, you must learn to run away from those who take you seriously. a question among lovers is gossip among friends. if i said i'd do anything to make you happy, would you do everything to make me a liar? now, will our friends gossip about that question, or will you ask your lover before you gossip about it to me? another question or a confused statement of truth is merely the difference of opinion...what's yours?