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A Few Words About Love
Rudolph can’t talk about his past loves
without telling some lies. Like others
you meet on screens and in novels who,
braggarts and pretenders, like children
use words and lies as sticks, strings and balls.
In the restaurants of our affairs, love is like
soup – hot and zesty when it’s fresh and bubbling,
tasteless and greasy when it’s a leftover,
placed somewhere on a back shelf.
Venus and Mars were two star-crossed lovers
who met in a hotel on the tip of the zodiac.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way, she whispered
as she slipped her fingers under his moons.
Arms around him, her hair on his shoulders as he
steered his Lambretta down the meteor belt into
Legends are built from stuff like that. Crossing
boundaries, defying fate. Whether you’re a star
or another hopeful lover, you play out the hopes
and aspirations of millions of romantic stargazers.
So put on a brave face Romeo, Rudolph, Greta—
don’t forget to brush your teeth before
performing a retake of that thirty-second-long kiss.
© Johnmichael Simon
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