Spring 1990 • Vol. XII No. 2 |

Love Po | Rose

   (The left half of this work is poetry, and the right half is prose. Love is sometimes poetic, sometimes prosaic. If you're in a poetic mood, read to the upright bars in each line. Otherwise, go all the way.) The sweet smell of wine ❘ makes me thirsty. Do you think it tempts me to kiss your soft ❘ pillow, where you spilled it from your lips, because aren't your ❘ manners any better? What's the deal? Your lips made of wine? ❘ Maybe we should bottle them and make some money. Mine are made of twine ❘ you say sarcastically. Or barbed wire to entangle with yours ❘ a chain-link fence. Your heart, though, even more gentle ❘ than asphalt, can sometimes be more passionate than a ball of twine. ❘ That's when I love you, I think.

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   (The left half of this work is poetry, and the right half is prose. Love is sometimes poetic, sometimes prosaic. If you're in a poetic mood, read to the upright […]

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