| If I were Earth and you were Mountain, would my love be satisfied as soft foundation under the craggy arches of your stony feet? If I were Free Spirit and you were King, would you hold my love ransom like crown jewels on a ship in an attempt to anchor my travelling thoughts? If we basked in the sun setting between our crow’s feet would our love deteriorate into tattered bookmarks slid between pages of history, repeating predictable comfort? | If I were Necromancer and you were Priest, would we love in a way we’re not supposed to love but suppose that’s the way love lives then dies, anyway? If I hated what you stood for and you were Poet, would words from your burning pencil thaw my cold doubts before they stencilled themselves in snow? If I were Boy and you were Girl, why must our love grow adult? Can’t we daydream forever as children soaring our wings through mud and moon walking on raindrops? |
an Aotearoa poetry journal | ISSN 2744-3248
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