[In Keeping Cautious Love] a poem

In love,
this one particular,
the grasses lean as pushed by a unvarying
drift of wind, below four lights from
every corner of the earth above the
mirrored sea-

-it is of nobody else's affair,
the informal nettle, nestled
a-slight enough to skepticize
other lives you've have yet to
trust with no regard-

-and for crying,
even the whimper you keep for yourself,
sighs selfishly dictated by learned restraint,
undoubted caution, inasmuch the weak,
so abundant, so abound, is the
consistent focal of cannibals,
devout to the savage belief,
to devour anothers' flesh may/can
be the answer to continuum,
till such time the fountain of youth
prevails in pharmacology



Dontrell Lovet't
from, [Just a Body]