The Infatuation

something so intangible

the blossom stroked cheek
that damned Eros strikes the heart

why mine again
the scars have not healed from the last

arrow. fissure in the fragment
what do the gods wish this

heart
to do; to do; to do

life would be easier
under the indoctrination

of the atheist love affair
a bucking

and silence but the heart
does not submit so easily.

the heart is a traitor
and my mind is a double agent

logic and love do not mix, the lines drawn
and a heavy sigh.