The lovesong of the praying mantis
It is difficult to write about love
and say only kind things.
I would rather say, love is a buffoon,
a rattlesnake- that love spits
and hisses bluespikes.
I could lie and say love is magic:
that it is fingers intertwined in other fingers
solidly, two perfectly contented hearts:
but that just wouldn't be true.
There is always a ghost on love's tongue
or some sad worm being crucified.
I loved your response poem, thank you muchly! Look forward to reading more of yours.
very good read.
"the books we need are the kind that act upon us like a misfortune, that makes us suffer like the death of someone we love more than ourselves, that make us feel as though we were on the verge of suicide, or lost in a forest remote from all human habitation - a book should serve as the ax for the frozen sea within us."
~from a letter of Franz Kafka to Oskar Pollak