You are granite.
I am an empty wineglass.
You know what happens when we touch!
You laugh like the sun coming up
laughs at a star that disappears into it.
Love opens my chest,
and thought returns to its confines.
Patience and rational considerations leave.
Only passion stays,
whimpering and feverish.
Some men fall down in the road like dregs thrown out.
Then, totally reckless,
the next morning they gallop out with new purposes.
Love is the reality,
and poetry is the drum that calls us to that.
Don’t keep complaining about loneliness!
Let the fear-language of that theme
crack open and float away.
Let the priest come down from his tower,
and not go back up!
