The archer taught me how to love
honest arrow
direct and straightforward
it does not shoot aimlessly
it has a target
serious, much like the art of war
except
the battles here are not fought in bloodshed
but made in love spread
that paints our entire entangled bodies
the color of children breathing meadowed mazes of
Port land islands surrounded by giant oaks
where my hunter got lost chasing lust through the Grantwood forests
my arrow pointed true but
no one told me its tip was venomed
too much is poison
as I have seen
and killed
a many
too much
too fast
but I never speak of those days,
I promised to never hunt again
because I love like the arrow steeped in
a lethal toxin
No comments:
Post a Comment