He longed to be revealed
Pealed like the layers of an onion
Or plucked like the petals
Of a rose
While Singing
She loves me.
She loves me not.
She loves me.
She loves me not.
Until the last
Layers of flesh
Disappear
And the anatomy
Of love appears
Wet and transfigured
In his transcendent
Affection
A beautiful grotesquery  
Falling in love
With the pain of
Loving someone
Who does not want
To be loved by him