Day 10: On Love Stories


Sometimes I can't escape the fact

That love is an irrational act

I know this from the things I do

The shops I visit, food I chew

When every small and human chore

You never thought about before

Is requisitioned - realigned

by terrorism of the mind

to serve some meld of flesh and bone

you sometimes talk to on the phone

And every other soul is made

To shrink or flee or fall or fade

Your work life suffers, friends will yawn

And wonder where the fuck you've gone

And ask what magic form or face

Has made this one the one you'll chase

Across a street, across a sea

Endure her average cup of tea

For every second life can spare

A new one beckons if you dare

to take a brave and fragile role

entwined within another's soul

And all surprises - never said

She sleeps diagonally in the bed

Or other things so frankly barmy

(Like folding giraffe Origami)

All this as nothing when you feel

That sense of something...

Something real


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