To love and be loved in return is to feel your breath leave your body
In a violent flash of epileptic trauma.
It is to look at the rain and have said
"I named you.
And you me.
Forever can now number his days."
It is to sit down with a tear guiding gentle sobs down your cheek
To love and be loved
Is to touch a beautiful flower with no recollection
Of the death your oily hands brought it.
Until its beauty is not but a memory.