PERCHED PARCHED BUTTERFLY

Aversion of Love

Michael Jackson wrote the lyrics to

"Remember the Time" on the back of a clock

as if that could stop time -

and with all the love in that track,

it did.

I wish I,

too,

could take time and tie it down,

tape up its mouth,

keep it from decaying as you and I eventually will,

in the ground,

too close to hell while our souls sneak into heaven's gates.

I don't want the love in us to die,

but if neither of us are left after our immune systems fade,

will there be any love left over in the fridge of humanity?

What if love is that phenomenon that repeats itself in different ways,

and we're all capable of it,

and it's just like water,

the same that Abraham Lincoln drank,

in

different forms,

different strokes,

different folks?

I never thought about that.

I never thought about love.

I just gave it,

chose to save it,

became the slave of it,

of what it can't do,

masked as what it can.

Could I write love on the back of the clock of eternity,

then,

and then somehow get it to you in the form of something so timeless?

I can't stand to lose another moment without the one who gives me all

the reasons to live in the moment.