deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Love
1914
My love is a coda, long
After we have passed.
New creatures spring
From our soft bodies
And critique it and poke at it.
In a tangle of untruths
And speculation.
1939
My love is fire,
Unruly and loud, crackling
And spitting toward
Passerbys. They'd
Collapse otherwise,
hopeless. I am the prince
Of a faraway land,
Proud and shining.
1967
My love is in beauty.
The hand on my chest
Or the friendship it offers.
Cool breeze and
ghostly echos of us
having solved the puzzle
Holding our mansion shut.
In a 5 minute marathon.
2030
My love is in silence;
A glance and one back;
A short pause as I write.
It is for you and me,
In a bowl of tomato soup
And a piece of crusty bread;
Morning coffee and afternoon tea.
We are bare in the snow's embrace.
And we will lie here.
My love is a coda, long
After we have passed.
New creatures spring
From our soft bodies
And critique it and poke at it.
In a tangle of untruths
And speculation.
1939
My love is fire,
Unruly and loud, crackling
And spitting toward
Passerbys. They'd
Collapse otherwise,
hopeless. I am the prince
Of a faraway land,
Proud and shining.
1967
My love is in beauty.
The hand on my chest
Or the friendship it offers.
Cool breeze and
ghostly echos of us
having solved the puzzle
Holding our mansion shut.
In a 5 minute marathon.
2030
My love is in silence;
A glance and one back;
A short pause as I write.
It is for you and me,
In a bowl of tomato soup
And a piece of crusty bread;
Morning coffee and afternoon tea.
We are bare in the snow's embrace.
And we will lie here.
Published 13th Apr 2021
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