Friday, January 13, 2017

My Love

His love is all possession and control.
   My love is help and generosity.
His kisses touch your skin and not your soul.
   Mine start with soul and seek transcendency.
His love sees how you look, mine who you are.
   His love is deep, but shallow next to mine.
His love is warm, but mine’s a blazing star.
   Mine sees an equal, his a concubine.
His love may stand tall now, but it will slouch
   Till derring-don’t replaces derring-do.
His love will wind up sitting on the couch
   And stare at quarterbacks instead of you.
      Mine is a love that bleeds, but never mourns,
      Because I even love you for your thorns.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

No comments: