He didn’t understand poetry really. He’d never studied it. He believed in it as an act of faith.
– Colin Channer
I want the kind of love he withheld in the beginning
like future promises that could be felt
lingering in the air.
I can envision myself yielding to the madness
and ecstasy that type of fire brings.
Dorothy’s whirlwind couldn’t compare
to the twists, twirls and whirls
of that kind of love.
No modern medicine can cure it.
I want a love that I can peel with my teeth like a mango;
the kind of affection that withstands upheavals and the occasional argument.
I am looking for the ties that bind
that will not wilt under intense heat.
I want the love of love songs and all great romances.
The kind that burns hot but never extinguishes…