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This is not a love poem
The first love poem
Inscribed on a clay tablet
By Sumerians
Does not speak of
Candy hearts or kisses or
Perfumed nothings
That make your heart beat and your
Cheeks flush hotly red.
Love to them was
Something deeper than a
One night stand or
Promise that doesn’t last.
The truth is,
Love was newly discovered.
It was magic.
To be worshipped
To be revered.
Lovers had learned to control
The impalpable power they
Unleashed on hot nights
Under strange stars.
Love was something
That the first alphabet was created for
Simply to pay tribute to.
Romeo and Juliet came later.
Their love was a different kind.
Their love was rank with bad perfume
And cloyingly sweet kisses that leave
Your mouth aching for pure water.
So, this is not a love poem.
It’s impossible to recreate the
Passion or the meaning of the
First words of love scratched
Onto wet malleable clay.
I will not bore you
With clichéd mentions
Of lips like crushed velvet
And eyes like the morning sea
After a storm.
Because those words are empty.
I would tell you I love you,
But those words are devoid of meaning now too.
You see them everywhere,
On every prostitute’s lips and party balloon.
Love has become a slogan that can
Be bought with money and chocolate.
So this is not a love poem.
Too many of those have already been written.
I just want to you to know one thing:
I love you.
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