Why is it we’ll put ourselves through
Love without sex?
The virtue of humanity has
existed forever, yet we allow
new rules to govern.
Where is the sanctity in the
giant spring coiling tighter and tighter?
Like Priests and Nuns pattering, pattering pat-pat-pat-pattering
to themselves
in the darkness of lonely night, yet they love
without sex, married yet not
consummated. Faceless spouses, eyes never fixed.
Stand and spit from pulpit, giving
hollow threats, ridiculous ideas, full of
fear or unknown or bastardry.
Why do we do this, love without sex?
Baptized in the turbulent waters of a
tidal lake, never cleansed, no
bells rung,
coiling spring tighter and tighter, spiraling, passions
until it
breaks.