i think that: this love is continental

some historic mainland narrative

open fields and svelte ravines of fresh water

but also, politics, and confrontation, and

the occasional warring city-state

differences of opinion about desire, jealousy,

the colour when buying new window shades 
and togetherness, as a collective organism

coaxed from the gummy pools of a cambrian

explosion – an antediluvian fondness for violence

dirty sex whistled into the picture

hair pulling and slackened jaws

and unlike all my other loves

this eye contact – moored planets

gravitating moons anchored down

never flinching, in even the gaudiest light

unperturbed by my ugliness, my despair

by this cargo taxed with bitterness. 
shall i call this: ignorance or just

plaster my criticism in the papers

wait for the unrivalled knife

keep my chest unprotected for slaughter
or does this earthly love come without

a death date? no mayan calendar to abide

and when the earth splits and cracks

i’ll just look at you, at those cosmic giants for eyes

the comfort of a satellite gaze unwilling to look away.