Couples always drown in eyes — in a gaze,
But some are trapped by a voice:
By vocal cords that bind one in a cage
Of gristle and ribs, inedible but choice.
The flesh, they say, is weak,
And love’s a play on bone-and-meat
Double entendres endlessly tasted,
But common sense is enervated and wasted,
Unable to say what’s desiccating and unsweet.
Some spine resistant to images is needed
To hold an unencapsulated lure,
And for a love invisible but feeding —
An armature more armor than amour.