A Short Love Poem


To that endless notion,
That we all have spells in time,
Lurking from crawling to walking,
From diaper to khaki pants. And in this pleasant truth,
We are defined not by the clothes we wear,
But when, and with whom, the clothes come off.
We are only a naked art form,
Impressionism becoming minimalism,
A naked science of how to be energy-powered
Confluences of proteins, cells and organs.
And in this beautiful nakedness, we become
Like the Emperor and Lady Godiva;
Royalty of how to be, foolish and courageous,
At the same time, jump-starting,
The polar chemistry, of a racemic coupling,
Cupid transforms in time, to love.