If I die of love...
cover my grave
in lunatic confessions
of gods and goddesses
lovers.
If I cry for love...
tell me the most exalting
hasn't been in town yet
that art survives any heartache
that trance takes further
into shamanic
unknown
to human yearning for pleasure
just pleasure.
If I somber from love...
purr the rainbow bubbles over the veil
take me for a jaunt
to reenact the acid scene from Easy Rider
shower me in paper planes
in butterflies of erotica
from across the centuries
of love writing
of lovemaking
of petites morts
from our incarnations
praised by the poets!