Love such a malignant disease
clothed in jesters courtly colours.
Dog drawn jowls; hangings of euphoria
overwhelming, coercing us into spaces,
then running blind, like new born mice.
Loves light, is neither of dawn nor night
pursuing us; as if the morning, caught the night
As the hunger inside the belly grows, growling
like some pillaging lioness,
love obliterates; scything all
within its path
Sensibility out stretches her wings,
free falling as she plummets.
Corridors of silver moons rekindle foolish thoughts.
One temperate touch, mingles needful expectations .
Terms of written endearments missile the mat.
Engaged telephone wires, carrying strands of
sugar spun affection.
The heart is hooked – left hanging on the line.
Only this time, there will be – no turning back.
Poppy August 2013 ~xx~