Never been the one for lust.

 

Love, now that’s a different prospect

altogether, for its patience is slow burning

and isn’t drowned in desire losing

its initial far thrown spark,

Chinese firework like, one big explosion

then nothing, the basic act

of the terminally pretty.

 

Love though confuses people, for

they think that if you say you love them,

their heads are turned, they believe

you have crossed the border into

infatuation, where as all you mean

is you love them, that lust is not on the agenda,