POEM

THE OBJECT OF MY LOVE

                          The Object of My Love

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                     Madam, whom to ‘objectify’
                                   Is modern sin,

             I can't, yet, help, faced with your feminine,
     But view your form, your nape, your hair and thigh,
                      As beauty’s definition; wired
                         In me, a deep imperative,
            To seek this lovely difference, desired,

        Despite my will, (though hoping you forgive).
         May be, while we are other, we’re the same,
            Sharing the human species and its aim?

                     To super-add the person, who
                                    Is who you are,
             To your rare person, to increase so far
           The pleasure of my conference with you.
                           To bestially efface her, I’d
                          Refuse the double privilege
                    Of human being, seeking to divide
                     Your nature and deny our lineage.
           When you require my love to touch your skin,
                 You have me touch intelligence within.

                     So since, sweet love, imponderable
                                       For us, that we
                              Cleave indivisible duality,
                       (And flesh a lens for better mutual
                      Knowing beyond our eyes) let’s use
                    Our differing forms in Love’s extreme
                        Articulation, bringing with it new   
                  Endearment, causing even life to teem;
                  Obedient, let's consent to kiss and play,
                       Agreed rejoicing is the proper way.

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This poem appeared in the September 2019 edition of the New English Review