Too much love—then we merely like.
Too much hate—then we dismiss—
The greatest love and the greatest hate
Are when these two have equal weight—
Then we die. Suffer. Kiss.
The greatest hate is mixed with love;
Love is sweeter, mixed with hate.
The doubt you feel when she makes you wait
Is a feeling made from love and hate.
Romance suffers. Then she relents.
And all perfumed, kind love erects its lighted tents.
Love needs hate for strength,
But one devours the other, at length.
Without hate, love’s passion dies.
Without love, hate lacks suspense and surprise.
The greatest kiss, with tongue and teeth,
Brushes what’s above, and dines on what’s beneath.
Hate me. Watch as I destroy the math,
The illogical hell which heats the bath.
I’ll love you if love has time
Tomorrow to love when it throws away this rhyme.