Are you saying Yes
but I don't hear it?
Are you saying No
and I just fear it?
Are you saying Run
but I'm to near it?
Or am I just numb
within my spirit?

Love can’t be measured
In moonlit romance
love is the skid mark
on pure snow white pants
Love isn’t yearning
for her touch when she’s gone
love is going down there,
and finding she’s on

Love isn’t furry
or flowery and cute
love is tonguing with passion
when you know she’s just puked

Love’s got spinach on its teeth
and cheese between its toes
Love belches, love farts
And love picks its nose

Love’s fat, love’s wrinkly
Purple and blue
Love’s dimply, pimply
And rash-covered too

Love blinds with passions
And foolish ideals
Open your eyes to the worst
And you’ll know when it’s real

~ © Ant Phillips, London - 2001