Romantic love is the desire for copulation,
embellished with the timid glances of a sonnet,
unless you are a eunuch who settles for lyricism
out of barren necessity.
Is that why I would rather have an empty bed
than empty shelves?
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
There is no question that I would like to know the answer to
more than: Why do people have to love people, anyway?
I guess it will remain as much of a mystery now as it was then.
At least spelling is no longer a problem, even for a dyslexic like me.
But I could use a bit of that ‘easy come, easy go’ attitude,
if only to save face—after all, not every hopeless romantic can live
up to the silver screen.
There is nothing better than romantic love
if you make a living selling tickets to Paris and Venice
or intend to do some fine coin on Audrey Hepburn films.
And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Think of the more sinister players,
like the diamond cartel feeding us with the myth of the symbol of love
—the engagement ring. Or have you ever contemplated the absurdity
of Valentine’s Day? After all, th’ uncertain sickly appetite needs nothing
of the sort. Elderflowers and an Epsom salt bath are Granny’s best
remedies for fever.
hidden pilcrow 