Love is fleeting, Ephemeral. The tide caressing the sand, Leaving as quickly as it arrives. Sex is tangible, Visceral, Quantifiable. At times a faux-semblant of love. Better than nothing, Far better even. Money is necessary, Permitting movement, Giving wings. If you have no love, If you have no sex, money can buy you a ticket. You can be the tide caressing the sand, You can fly away To the place mayflies go.