Drunk on a cigarette and the night
I had a thought like a white light:
Love is wild poetic thoughts in the mind.
Love is neither physical, nor conversation, nor being kind.
Love is wild poetic thoughts in the mind.
Poetry is love and love is poetry.
Love travels by the mind and enters me.
Longing for her is not enough,
The dream of her dream loving, is love.
When you see the poet lingering and alone,
Smoking a cigarette, and still as a stone,
You have seen love. Do not fear
That stranger. Love? It’s here,
In wild poetic thoughts of the mind.
Love is neither physical, nor conversation, nor being kind.
Love is a god. And when the light goes on
The mind understands she was wild and she is gone.