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Mangled
Words
Words
once said in private
Now hold no secretes
The
mystery of its beauty now diluted
In
the mouths of babes they sound so transitory
Almost
unnecessary when callously said
They
know not what they speak of
When
they fumble the word love in fractured thoughts
Futile
attempts made at adult games
None
of it comes from the heart
What
they feel is lust born of a deviant sexual heat
Which
in itself is a beautiful thing
Its
passion easily distinguished and separate from love
But
no less immediate.
Dean
Jean-Pierre
(
On the train a young couple standing next to me attempting the art of seduction
when even in the hands of adults can be clumsy and seemingly stupid. Innocence
forgives everything.)
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