What is love?

man is a butterfly

or so he says

in a cobalt cell of death

all words are meaningless

without love

and no flower can bring

us to our senses,

he talks of flesh, of hair,

of toes, of ankles,

of thighs, of breasts,

but I see pain behind

his eyelids

red with alcohol--

don't give me that

foolish moon,

my face is wrinkled

like paper, worn down

by the lies,

some day they will bury

me,

I read, I worship

the invisible,

he speaks of love

but does he know the word?

I watch the pigeons

in tears, hoping endlessly

for her to come back,

my love, my life

my music--

what symphony, what madness

they have made of words,

words words words

like some infection

paralyzing the mind

of innocence,

scream, poet, scream

loudly above the town,

they have twisted love around,

they have given it

another shell,

bad poets, good poets,

sad poets--

I've seen them all

scratching out their

names in stone

but I, I weep in

silence at the truth--

love has been lost,

disfigured by the tempting

of the flesh,

I stretch out my arms

to a hungry child

weeping on my shoulder,

surely we must be

greater, sure we must

know that love is

not a bed of pleasure,

nor a rose, but rising

beyond all forms, all

appearances and lies,

that no poet can ever

touch or sense or smell

or hear or see its

presence,

love is beyond words

beyond the fancies

and the glamour

she is a woman as much

as a man

soaking through the

ink of the endless

pages of writing,

love is a child

before he learns

to speak,

it cries through

the hearts yearning

to feel, to feel

the flame of

the protected secret,

the secret of the

invisible beauty,

not rose, not moon,

not flowers, not the rain,

she kisses the silver water

of Christ, purified

through suffering

and the decay of death

no hunger, no disease

can stop the flow,

love is the innocence

well guarded and never

known

I saw an eagle once

flying in the heights

of her glory

love is beyond our

grasp, no matter how we

try to capture her

with our greedy hands

no prisons, no cages,

no songs, but love

pure love is all

was always all

never have I seen

a man so naked

when he became love--

tear down your clothes,

your walls, your sonnets,

your words, strip away

the ornaments and let

love breathe once again!

I weep, I hope, I touch, I pray, I love...