Humans have strange loves
like lukewarm coffee in the middle of winter
or paper cuts on an unsuspected finger.

They sob for days about loveless affairs
while drowning the pain with champagne
and melting the sorrow in stale bath water.

Eternally in love with fields of blooming flowers
and obsessed with deranged ideas of love and power.
Careful to soak each lost battle in red wine
along with their heavy pasts.

Humans **** each other with chaos
while pretending to be lovers
but that is our nature.

To be who you wish and love strange things
To have the right to love another being
no matter what race or gender
To be mean or tender
To be human