I met the Warrior of love
the other night,
he challenged my cynicism
to a fight.
Fearless French lessons,
of “rape and atomic bombs”,
in love’s language,
“touching spiders
just to get close to them”-
to love them.
Finding meaning in the meaningless
“circles that bring us closer”,
and further away.
I met the Lecturer of love
dressed in armour,
(wine, a weapon)
harassed in amour.
The drunk philosopher
teaching drunk pupils
about the “ripples
of the water,
circles of wisdom”
coming to teach
you about love.
I met the Lover of love,
I said “love” is just a “word”
He said “No!
You must have misheard;
it’s a feeling,
it’s spiritual,
it’s the excited chemicals
within that make you scream
EYYAAHHH”!
