Love took a reaching arm,
tore it off at the joint.
So far from all that harms,
love never disappoints.
Love is a waking hour
into the dead of night,
waiting here to devour,
always a title fight.
We go on this way,
dancing just like pugilists.
Bobbing, weaving
and the occasional embrace.
Taking each other apart
piece by piece
and when our opponent drops;
the guilt sets in.
Love is a drug,
it’s true.
We all know for sure.
love will look after you,
if you can handle it pure.
It’s going to get in your veins
and It’s gonna slow you down.
you’ll stop fighting the waves
and smile as you drown.
This is just the way,
the old story goes.
There are bodies laying down
beside the road.
Those who gave in
and succumbed
to something that felt so good
and made them numb;
and they knew they were dying.
Love is a toxic angel,
Heaven sent.
If you think you disagree;
fight me.
HG – 2019
