Not About Love Poem by Allen Blue

I have nothing new to write.
From too many recastings
The material has grown brittle.
It’s best to find another
And avoid these clumsy hands –
I will not write about love.

I will not write about a heart that groans
Against tense lines mooring it to a dock;
I will not write about how effortlessly
The straps slid from your moonlit shoulders;
I will not write about what moved your hands
To protect my wrists from me;
I will not write about why I lower my head
To kiss those hands rising when you breathe;
I will not rewrite words already written –
I certainly will not write about love.

But, when you stand in my doorway
Head slightly cocked,
And ask me what I’m writing about –
I will trace the afternoon light
That splinters into stems
Flowering at your feet,
And reply, without the least bit of irony,
“Love.”