If love ain't the ember in remember
then it's probably hate, or the shadow
of a pain so great it couldn't fade into
the light of day just around the corner
from any time, any place, mano
a mano, chest to chest, just me and you
and the open air, that kind of call to fight
like a rottweiler, to bite the proverbial leg
of the one you love, the one you hate, or the one
you masturbate in the forests of the night
all Tiger, tiger, forgetting the powder keg
of days and our flickering camp-fire brain.
Love, if you love me, think of me when you shower
as your animal soap and pegasus water.
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