I
sit, staring at a Jesus piece, falling into regions. I’m looking
for
a language, a group of words, something found in novels.
Indeed,
my love, an animal is amuck, striping a forest. I
listen
to Jodeci, pondering apricots, plus, exotic winds. I
imagine
wedgewood, a burning fever, to fetch a psyche. A
world
is drifting, where yogis flame, ever to tap a heart. We
move
so wildly, infatuated with glamour, ever to need more.
Love
is so zealous, bending through a city, landing in
shattered
districts. Indeed, my love, how speak a wave,
where
trauma rages aflame? I ask, as segue to love, dearly
afoul.
Are nights not restless, courting a moon, staring at a
clock;
and we sit so close, closely closed. I speak of love,
enlove
with love, doting for love. Indeed, ever a flower,
streaming
through a galaxy, a heavy rainfall. But I vow to
love,
reckless for love, peering into a future; for this is love,
a
boding valley, a challenged love.
