The porn of us in love is the most forbidden.
On trains, in marches, people push and shove,
Speeches, episodes, scenes are watched, but we are hidden.
Those attributes are anonymous, cheap.
The common story arc comes to a climax and we weep.
The naturally cautious are not about to go crazy.
Love can’t last; we are tongue-tied, distracted, banal, lazy.
You can see right away what the problem is;
What is her is hers and what is his is his.
The porn of us in love has many obstacles.
The first is that it’s too unique to be imaginable.
Marriages set up house and meal.
You don’t find love in marriage. Get real.
The porn of us in love is nearly impossible.
The porn of us in love is not quite laughable.
The porn of us in love is so hidden that it has no will.
Since all of us are types, you must love all men in the man.
You might write a poem about our porn, but I don’t think you can.
