Love Lends Itself

I have all this love; here, in the palm of my hand, just jumping about, like an eager seed pining to be sewn I imagine you take it; revel in its idiosyncrasy, feed it stardust from your dreams, and blow kisses for luck You'll wait, and as love starts to sputter of constellations and erratic poetry, you realize it alone is not enough You want my flesh, my blood, my bones, to press your fingerprints against the very navel of my love, to imprint its core, you want to make love instead of merely watching love grow