I’m
want for peace, to speak of peace,
cleaving
to peace;
and
more for love, to relish love,
feining
for love. It’s
closely
a ribcage, stripped a rib, a sullen
petal.
I stress
for
life, a fevered drop, a halo’s dream;
and
ever a magnet,
as
vicious as love, a bouncing adjective.
I
love her wise,
a
sage’s heart, as frisky as kittens;
forever
this life, a
cage
of wings, dearly unsung.
Our
dusty minds, a
portrait
undone, a downpour of doves.
It’s
more a
metaphor,
stars for dust, etched into a
cabinet.
I’m wild
for
lust, a raving owl, drawn afield; for
love
is wise, to
draw
for wild, a rill outworn. It’s tender
for
ruth, a snare
of
wiles, a spirit unveiled; but time is
math,
a jacinth
sun,
trekking through a forest. I love her
sorely,
to reap
for
joys, girt in holiness. We’re up for down,
a
vest of
trials,
fallin’ through portals. Our spongy
hearts,
to
gallop
far, a canyon of love; forevermore, a
whistle
soft,
to
devastate a fane. Its cavern brooks, purple
garths,
a
world
of jasmine; for love is life,
where
life is love,
a
fever to churn souls.
