. . . is also the only way to be absolutely sure nothing will come of it . . .

“But all that’s born,” you say, “is like a fruit
   That’s sweet at dawn and sour by end of day.
Time plants the blossom that it will pollute.
   So if you taste not what tainting decay
Will gobble up no matter what you’re craving,
   You’ll never know Love’s sweet and timeless flavor.
Love is a coin for spending, not for saving.
   Like freshness, Time will sap its youthful savor;
So why not kiss it while it’s everywhere?
   When I declare ‘I love you’ to a mate,
I mean I want to pluck that fruit and share
   It all -- then plant the seeds from what we ate
      To grow a new fruit, spoiling for a fight,
      That will stay fresh each time we take a bite.”

Copyright 2010 Matthew J Wells