If
I were sightless for love, rapacious for heart, would you
love
me? If I gave all, to live pure, would you hold me? I
ask,
in tears for such an entity. We climb abyss, walls to
shimmer,
clawing for an acme. Our wounds are nightlong,
quick
to advance, an orgasm of sadness, touched with
joy.
We gallop forever, diving from rooftops, enlove for
hope,
the scope of love. We’re naked for warmth, a
bonded
treasure, entwined loosely. How give less, when
all
has bided? Its ivy roots, golden surreal, a specter’s
dreams.
So much to save a petal, wrapped in cellophane,
unveiled
for public view. We feign aloof, composing
vignettes,
musing upon butterflies. Here’s a tulip, even a
bouquet,
alert to a dying petal. Dearly our ribcage, even a
limb,
from heart to bone. We love emphatic, print to soul,
spreading
wings. It’s only our minds, faintly wilted,
staring at
brain-prints.
