Sunday 12 October 2008

A love poem

Love is not a piranha fish

It has much longer gnashers

Made of corn and disaster cane

And welted banana flashes

It ties and grips and doesn’t move

Or freely when it’s fine

Otherwise parched and lucid

Painful, failing vine.

Love cuts without rhythm or blade

Needs barely want excuses

But excuses for time the deeper cut

Love demands

And loses.

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