For Sure
We’ve been writing
about love all along,
its thousand-fold
colors and endless names,
indelible mark and cloying songs––
how it runs wild,
goes astray, or tames.
Hope climbs faster once it descends
if an elusive sought-after soul mateis a detour away from a last dead end.
We yearn and return to another date.
Soon to take
chances, we mend on the go.
The odds matter not;
we’re bound to get past
––wired to wake up,
though ragged and slow.
Our faith and our folly
get back in the sack.
“Not again” we lament as before leads to after.
Still––love will grant a new chapter.
Still––love will grant a new chapter.
~ LCMH