It was late
And the night was beginning in earnest
When I learned about love.
I sat one night
And eavesdropped without intention
Into the intricate lives of a pair
Creatives, artists doomed to a life of non-satisfaction
Yet they are humans too
They may conjure out (in this case) music out of thin air
Melodic moments and sensuous sing-songs
But they feel pain too
And try to lose it in viscous, pungent, happy-making liquid.
This fellow, bearded and thick spectacles atop his nose
(Is there a more stereotypical artist?)
Would lose his father soon
Intuition and expensive healthcare told him so
What to do?
Well take a sip and another and another
Because drunken words are sober thoughts.
A dog he suggests, so that his mother will not be lonely
Who will care for it? We will of course he says,
And she is lost at 'we', a confirmation of their union
To take over the world, together.
Is this not love?
I sat another night
Encountering two whose sips became gulps
And gulps become swallows
Diving into the pool of intoxication
Rid of all senses they walked, together
Up and Down carriages,
Stumbling in unison
Destination unknown, they would find it together
Matching trench coats flapping in rhythm
Giggles as they rocked to the swaying melody of the train
They may have appeared as two nuisances, inconveniencing others
But they were two foolish lovers,
Holding on for the moment in a night they would forget
Is this not love?
The last night on the last train
A soft pitter-patter of midnight rain
An arctic breeze had blown in
Across me a couple huddled
Touching
Not groping and wandering with perverse hands
Subtle sensual caressing
Involving no movement
Just the pair joined in body and soul
Tucked into each others arms
Clicking together as two jigsaw pieces
Slowly slipping into splendid slumber
I wondered
Is this not love?
And when will I find it?