valentines
They’d fallen in love
as some young people do—
so that lust might rationally increase.
Their bright, valentine-red-blood fairly beat for love.
It’s good that we can name a thing—
describe it and classify it, so it’s out there,
fact-like, in the flimsy, indefinite poetry-verse
It was a day for it, as the sun, that most followed star,
was a carnotite paintball-splotch against a sky stitched of turquoise
and the quality of the light was sentimentally beyond reproach.
Their gallant love seemed to cast a radiance too, a bright, collateral light,
which was of greater reassurance than any by-rote, muttered words.
No one denied the ambition of their love, it was both a mess and a revelation. And no one could pretend the moment was ordinary, that the atoms that spun and gripped our world together weren’t woven yet more inseparable by their union.
The greatest, alas, may choose to bless or deny that such a miracle as love, lasts.
.
.
Songs for this:
Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers
You Can Have It All by Yo La Tengo
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