[We Know Only of We] a poem

If we're honest,
we both know no love
story exists in me;
the fellow to draft a naturally careless
tale might be a man who doesn't
know any better;

I know of you & you of me
& we of us & of us,
whirling like fumes of flowers &
a mystic fragrance,
adventurous bodies hung
like veils,

simpering sentiments of
unintended slight




Dontrell Lovet't
from, [If It Be You]