is it?

while I am shown
you are
well
hidden
in crowds.

“it’s an art, you buffoon!”
you say.

is it, I think.

we kiss
but in
it
there is little
love
lest anything else.

“it’s an art, you fucker!”
you say.

is it, I think.

in dim light
we make
love
in your brother’s
bed and
do not
finish.

“it’s an art, you womanizer!”
you say.

is it, I think.

at last,
we are
here
drinking
and nothing between us
but love
love love
and finally
i understand -
it’s an art, baby.
sheer beautiful art
being under
gods and
be so god-like among
it all.