Love Recidivus

Whatever it may be, we may suppose

it is not love, for love must leave its trace

like contraband seized and displayed in rows;

is not sufficient reason to erase

the careful lives we have so far lived through—

there is no call for us to undermine

the walls we've built; no need to think anew

of all the chains and choices that define

us still. And yet for all our fine intent

a single touch ignites the night and tries

resolve past all resisting. What we meant

before we mean again; fidelities

have yet been known to shift and come undone

and all good reasons fail us, one by one.