Day: Aug 10, 2012
If I should die before I’ve had the chance to look
an angel in the eye and say with all the impetus
my rusty breast can cry: It’s you I ever want to be
with when the time has come to say goodbye then
cut the finger from my ringless hand and burn it
fast without a single strand of sentimental mercy
till the flames blood red have formed the letter Y
A question like a shooting star (the cosmic face of why)
had hurled itself like cobweb dreams across the milky sky.
Just what is love? the meteor streamed —
to which no answer came (at least it tried).
Followed soonly by another query posed:
I said what do you think love is?
To which a myriad voices then replied
and gave their stilted theories which
I here below repeat condensed so you can see
just what the blinding blaze of love is up against.