Enslaved By Your Love Poem by Mark Heathcote

When some star does shine in the distance
I squint to see it roundly better
I force my eyes to see its beauty.
Therefore, I think. I understand it even better.
And therefore, I understand it even less
Like a lemon, I would squeeze out its pips.

And try to ascertain its sweetness from bitterness.
And while my eyes are firmly transfixed
I would absolve myself of any dark wrongdoing.
In such a fashion, I would possess even you?
I would be the suitor enslaved by your love.
And be visionless to see you are all around me.