Consummation of Words

People want writers

To write about love

As if it were trivial

Sexy, seducing stanzas

That make the reader wet with anticipation

Or sultry psalms that paint two lovers

In the epitome of embrace

As if love can be put on

And taken off

Like a coat or tie

If you can only have love while you’re solid

Then you have less than lack in love

You lack in humanity

I write of love as a constant state of humility

Forever grateful for life we don’t deserve

For songs of angels that bless this world

And for the people we meet who touch us

Some is sexual

But the best is one that doesn’t ever leave

It’s the one you die with

It’s the touch of breath

That consummates why I write

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