Our Way

By J. Lynne Moore

Love, gentle, is not our way…
Passions, volcanic, upon us play.

Flippant desires, humbled lust;
Sheepish kisses fall to dust.

Only the tides rival our soul;
Spinning cyclones out of control.

Bow to our feverish rapture;
Jealous, our love to capture.

Weep those who cannot see,
The adoration betwixt you and me.

Beyond what, the universe can convey,
Love, gentle, is not our way…

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