Love poetry usually conjures images of the chase. The expression of found love is far smaller than the book shelves full of verse to love pursued. It makes sense if you see poetry as utility. Poems and songs just another tool in the acquisition of the love object. Love as a transaction, bought and sold in the romance business, has more play than love fulfilled. But love is not a bargin and love fulfilled is every bit as interesting to the human condition. Lace and I are going to celebrate our 10 years of being together, ten years since the moment of our meeting at Welcome Week for new Fuller student.
The Echo of the First Kiss
The deer, who roam our neighborhood,
have eaten the naked buds of our lilies.
Only one, red with golden speckles.
made to bloom. It was enough to prove
my love for your. You water our flowers
in sun of dusk. Our young oak stands naked
as it matures. The beginning always lives
before the fig leaf hides our vulnerability.
That night, long ago in a California gone,
we touched lips in the tentative tremble
of love breaking the soil with small
stem and new leafs lives again. I see your
eyes and my nose in a two year old
playing with his beloved cars. The mysteries
of tangled vines and grapes grown
for sweet wine, for red wine, for all styles
of wine was our journey after our mutual
“I do.” Honeymoon, want a strange
combination of a word. Honey, sweet
nectar of insects with stingers and moon,
a body of the heavens that moves around
our world in 29.53059 days, combine to form
the celebration of love's beginning.