Boundaries

Love is blinded in knowing no boundaries, jams it's oars in any waters, cleaves it's blade how it chooses; Eros lays claim to all sons and daughters, arrows shot at random, caution thrown upon the four winds' mercy, ancient stardust, the casting of runes. I did not choose to love you, I had no say, denied influence; I saw and fell headlong into the kindest eyes, lay against the softest breast; by the sweetest arms crushed, stunned as by the gentlest lips brushed that I had ever known. No, I did not choose to love you, but if carte blanche was the way it had begun I know in my heart I would have done...