We
love eternal: a world with rules, a star with space, a solemn kiss.
I
hold you, as if isolated—from both life and death. We perish the
nuances,
to rise immortal, to cherish the nuances. Love is but a vessel,
to
symbolize deathless, where actions are grounded—for next life.
You’re
a parachute, a spacecraft, soaked and dying in wisdom. We
cherish
such wealth, a harvest of minds, wrestling for laughing.
“It’s
your turn to cook, or order out, or something.” I smile—to begin
a
search, reading off options. We know for limits, where love has
bifocals,
to adjudge all things. We filter this way, to watch for petit
harms,
to taper our lusts; for earth is deep, with roots and worms, to
ruin
a marriage; thus for keeps, drenched in words, to flatter a queen.
We
gesture softly, to carry a language, to tease with licorice. We’re
heavy
with needs, to love for monogamy, and quite inventive. You
poke
and prod and peel and paste, ever our lives. We participate—in
a
world of charities, enlove with kindness. We study love, and hold
debates,
to feature our lives. I love you rested, filled with life, surging
through
minds. We climb for mountains, to hike through caves, a
flaming
fever; to live it sinless, or maybe venial—this love.
