When love like cancer flows and grows
among and between our flickering hearts.
Though death always follows
let us enjoy this fragile part.
For it is, this thing which grows nary pause
within and without though subtle
and slippery is the cause
which makes insipid stumbles
Of word and deed as each, we drunken baboons,
flail about and eventually tear asunder
the rabid combinations of our heartfelt swoon
self ravenous plunder.
And when such time as stymied peace
ensues and offers up intrepid pause
we'll finally find the time to cease
and sheath those bloody feral claws
Seeing again the pedestals there
created by each for the other sublime,
erected sans thought and nary a care;
across the span our hands entwine.