Lover, I don't mean it
but I mean it when I say
shake god and his higher pursuits from your head
I, as your lover, more than others
know
of its sacred connection
but beloved
Come back to bed
God
he has all the worlds philosophers
most renown
in his temple
at his table
talking as men do
whereas mine
it's left disheveled
with nobody to see to its hearth
dance as cobras do
it's once youthful fame
dies as the last remnants of its flame
go untended
go converted
to god and the higher pursuits from your head