A Short Love Poem

Love 9

Mechanical machines our bodies
Are, limbs that make set moves,
A collaboration of sorts

A mind that swiftly moves from one to another,
Only the nagging holding you in anxiety
Or gaiety, or just in plain reverie.

And a heart that saves you, time and again,
From what is mechanized and well-oiled,

A chamber that beats and pumps in physiology
And becomes rapture in love.