Love the hater, not the lover—
The lover is only flattering you.
Flattery is the cover for slander.
The ones we should love are very, very few—
You hate, you hate, but do you dare
To hate in everyone’s view?
I love you, who speak honestly,
And say you admire my song:
We love song, of course we do,
But hate is right to hate wrong.
I will shed tears at hate’s funeral,
Whether she will have my tears, or no.
All we can do is hate wrong.
There’s no other place to go.
What you hate is all you know.
Love is a hopeless redundancy.
From hate, steadily outward we go,
Until we find harmony.
You run from hate. You hate me,
Which I take to heart as flattery.
Your hating is perfect. You don’t need me.
But hate is allowed that luxury.