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