Passions

Let's not mention love. It's like a glowing

stove to someone covered with burns already.

And hate is that dark cave whose depths conceal

a reeking oubliette where rivals groan.

One glimpse enough to turn your head

and make you lose your balance, envy will have

you spiralling from the top of the cliff, down

onto the breakers. Anger is the sea.

Gasping and buffetted, no matter how

you struggle or plead for mercy, you drown. But pride

can clothe those shattered bones with perfect skin,

and breathe into the lover's mouth her song.