Love for a purpose is never love,
even if the reason is a grand, selfless one.
The grand purpose becomes all—
love, being love, allowing the purpose play,
allowing the purpose fame, whether patriotism,
or children spilling into the green yard.
The car payments made, love will belong to the car.
But I loved you for no reason at all.
Details about you caught my fancy.
Just as songs say, I “fell.”
What did it bring me? A strange personality
with a sneering tendency to say, “no.”
I wasn’t able to own, much less have, or sell.
I loved you all the more for that. A lesson
terribly valuable. O the bliss of loving someone
for nothing, for nothing, for nothing.