Love, For Lack Of A Better Word Poem by Iohannes Silvaticus

Tread softly upon the narrow path
Between soft sand and salt water
Lest the wall that you approach
Hears the shatter of your heart
As you reach to clasp its endless palm
And plant a kiss on silent cheeks
So as to come close enough to speak
Without really saying anything.

With time you shall come to see
The futility of your pursuit
When the only response that you receive
Is naught but hard baked brick
And the greatest trial you undertake
Is merely balance on this narrow beam
But at least balance leaves things the same
Leaving no room for worse change.

You search for weakness along these cracks
But marriage is stability, not romance.