Sunday, October 23, 2011

I was never one who in love or in friendship
Preferred one sex over the other. Beauty
Attracts me in equal measure, wherever
I find it, in season.

The bird alights, looking only to its alighting,
Its desire to alight mattering more than the branch.
The river runs where it finds its repose,
And not where it is needed.

Thus I separate myself from distinctions
Of where and how I love or don't love,
And I don't offend the inherent innocence
Of when people love.

Love is not in the object but in the act.
I only love something when I start loving it.
My love does not reside in it
But in my love.

The gods who gave us this path of love
To which we have given the name beauty
Did not place it only in women
Or only in fruit.

They also gave us the flower to pluck.
And perhaps we pluck with better love
What we seek for the using.

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