It started out, a four-letter-thing
Just another profanity, a pubescent fling.
A ‘crazy’ cultivated irreverence called ‘love’
Among others like ‘cool’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘faff’!
In the beginning, was a hollow gut pain
A quickening and then a long-drawn drain.
Dreary afternoons, and much of the moon
Of nights framed by windows, passing too soon.
A burst of pure feeling, states we didn’t know
Hidden nights, dreamy days, secrets like the big-O.
Now, I am glad we bartered youth and that year
To earn this bare-boned beauty, bought dear.
This thing, we leave nameless, utterly ‘virgin’,
Elusive, we frame it in tangential neologisms.