Elizabeth Tesler – Ode to Lovers

O lovers,

Prancers,

Tweedledees and Tweedledums

Whose hearts be filled with

something

Something.

Call it love;

Let it ring

On your tongue

In your mind

Down your spine—

As you loop your fingers ‘round another’s,

Blushing,

And wring your hands at signs of sweat.

O dreamers

Of summer nights,

Starry skies,

Roses bloomed,

Let fantasy be fantasy

And love be love.

Beg, plead—

Lonely nights!

Single meals!

Untouched skin!

But know;

Those who want love

Shouldn’t have it.

Or, in other words,

Just because your toddler wants a Swiss army knife doesn’t mean you should give him one.

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