Saturday, July 18, 2015

I don’t want a prince

We cannot embrace,
we cannot make love,
we could kiss
(could be messy)
and you’d no longer be a frog
and anyway
I don’t want a prince.
We could touch,
before your hop
takes you out of reach
and where you stop
could well be a hiding place.
Suffice for the moment
the embrace of sight:
you to me,
me to you,
large or small
depending on view.
We may not share love
for you see peril
in your tiny eyes
but I see,
however small you be,
creation’s artist
in disguise.

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