There’s love, then there’s
Eternal love, so fair, so sweet —
Would that the moments stop
As sugared wings begin to beat in time;
And habits of impunity
Belie our one humanity,
This son, this daughter, this perfect
Roll of cinnamon
Away with all temptation’s mere pretenders:
For I have seen the guarded gate,
The countertop of valuables that stay
Right where their baker left them;
In life, we each have
Many rolls —
But so few that are quite
As delicious
