Her Love Exit -
She spoke about Love as though it were a ghost
that haunted Her heart, a gobblin of garrulous grind & grime,
a spector of weakness that if caught
in the peryphery of One's soul would intensify
as a headache storm swells inexorably into the daytime,
a terror of exposure to vulnerability wrapped
in the voice of a violin chasing a child,
if confronted, it would vanish in the blood of imagination,
oddly, She gave Love to others like a lesson of learned loss,
She couldn't help to care,
wouldn't surrender to it,
but couldn't deny Love to those who believed in it,
a painful condition of starvation for sentient salvation,
an Angel of abused afterthoughts,
I wonder now if She knows
that Love is the metal of Her armor -
J.A.B.
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