Key

Love is the key,

that's what they told me,

but not you

with your pearly-white cheeks.

So what if you speak

with the frail voice of innocence,

corrupt sound with giggling

laughtery watery shaky sounds,

my precious love stands on a sturdier voice,

claiming erratic and beautiful noise--

blinding from your eye--that precious green

where love is not key.

Alas, they were wrong,

hate is much stronger,

now forgiving, now endangering

teenage-like adult hunger,

then silent...building,

exploding outward

never expected,

that headache called jealousy

a pretty face--

perky lace--is it just fake and dirty dress?

Oh, no, that beating in my heart,

Oh, no, that pulse and heat

that I remember your soft lip,

that intoxicating breathing

like herbs made of skin...

forget love,

I prefer the mys(t)ery.