Questions that ‘Love’ Throws Up (in the air, regurgitates, tosses around, et al)

Love seems queer

Autoerotic

Reveling in the sameness

Of the other,

Is difference a point of departure?

Janus-headed

A turnaway and look elsewhere,

Or a g-spot of arousal

Powering the eternal

Sado-masochistic self?

What is love?

One moon sighted by two pairs of eyes;

A night framed by a window;

Playful abuses bandied around;

A high on hormones;

A new wound to cover

Pus of the oozing old one;

Union of the solution of

Attention deficit disorder

And the stalking syndrome;

Plato’s search for two halves

Of the one whole?

Is it a hallowed name, or

All the revered words

(Trust and laugh, feel and touch)

Put in the simmering cauldron

Producing wafts of heady nausea,

A pendulum like chime

Between two extremes

Leading to a puking fit,

Carving out a dent

Like words etched on a tree

Eroding the heart

Than a healing seal?

Love is a much-fucked slut

Raped by many pens,

Burdened with bastards

Claiming her legacy.

So I added yet another paean

To the litany,

A friendly detoxifying

Homily.