Love II

It’s twilight, love: lions are lurking, owls are peeking, love

twiddles a flute. So much charm, a serene fever, fogging

ambiguity. I’m in a state of kef, anxious for love, trekking

cloud to cloud. I was nearly mute, a broken voice, jotting

notes. Love awakened me. I saw something purple. It

peered into a psyche. So ever this love; and never this love;

a haptic love. I’m touched with guilt, for love’s a universe,

rarely enlove. How to give all, a parade of giving all, where

all is up for auction? I ask, teary to love, a witness of love.

Relax a heart, searching a yonic love, where cosmic love—

is ever universal. Indeed, love is veiled, engrained deeply,

unveiled at sea. It’s twilight, love: birds are resting, cats are

eating, love twiddles a lute. I’m rising for such love,

speaking, Namaste, ever for love. It’s ours, my love, a

featured love, rejoicing love. How has it been sung, adrift a

sun, jamming drums?