Boundaries
Love is blinded in knowing no boundaries,
jams it's oars in any waters,
cleaves it's blade how it chooses;
Eros lays claim to all sons and daughters,
arrows shot at random, caution
thrown upon the four winds' mercy,
ancient stardust, the casting of runes.
I did not choose to love you,
I had no say, denied influence;
I saw and fell headlong into the
kindest eyes, lay against the softest breast;
by the sweetest arms crushed,
stunned as by the gentlest lips brushed
that I had ever known.
No, I did not choose to love you,
but if carte blanche was the way it had begun
I know in my heart
I would have done...
|