Where’s the shame in this desire?
Where’s the shame
in searching those coffee bean eyes
to find they read the apple in yours?
Shame?
Leave it to the ilk of fraud
execs who skim some
prezs who skim some
clerics who skim some
and then some.
What?
Should you blush?
Avert your eyes?
Cover your head? Or
like Rodin’s Eve,
shrink in place?
Should you crush your soul
and ignore that steady call
for fullness? Should you
split inside with self-contempt, and
interweave the seasons without love?
No!
Not when you know
the universe’s first spark must be
and can be felt in those eyes.
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