Two Week, True Love

Two Week, True Love

I’ve been thinking
about this thing called
love lately, and
it’s become
just a little bit clearer,

I think it became clearer
while we were both standing
in front of my bedroom mirror,
naked, distracted, by the
conversation we were having about
the origins of Western love ideology,
its roots in Greek mythology,

About how the gods split
the human being into two halves,
when human pride tested their powers,
leaving souls cursed to long
for their mate, about how soul mates
know not the bounds of age or sex
and their love can overcome any social
construction, put in place
by those who don’t see that love
will forever float above human law,

And yes, we were still standing naked
in front of the mirror 20 minutes later,
caressing each other,
completely wrapped up,
in each other's words,

And yes, we were still
wrapped in each other's
words,
about another hour later,

We talk about it but,
What is it?
What is this “love,” at this age,
twenty years old,
just the cliché word used to fill poems?
Or a word we overuse, abuse,
laugh at when our friends get
tangled in its silky web?

Love is, the broken condom…
at 9:30 in the morning,
the lack of panic, shame and blame, it’s
kissing you after we assessed the damage, it’s
the me not packing my bags
even though my boys and I
planned to haul ass to Canada, to
start a new life when the first one
of us planted the accidental seed,

Love is, when we whispered,
“I need you, I want you” on the
R train to school,
forty minutes later, its that
you’ve been late to class
every morning for the past
two weeks and said fuck it,
life’s too short and you’re my baby,

Love is, that we’re fucken crazy; love
is that I’ve lost two earrings and
about five pounds in two weeks with you,

We believe it so its true,
when they say you’re young
and it’s just “new” we say maybe,
but fuck you anyway because
well we’re in it now, so
might as well live it up,

Love is that we call it luck,
that we’re young, impassioned lovers
who just don’t give a care, so

Pull my hair and kiss my chest,
in the dark, so when you
hurt me tomorrow's light,
it’ll be alright,
because tomorrow is tomorrow
and tonight is tonight, and

Trust me, it’ll be a long night.