'Feelings?' she said,
'Feelings fluctuate
as desires grow;
who can trust feelings?
Illusion's dealings
as arrows twang from bow
swiftly undulate
and delude the dead.'
'Love I crave, not feeling!
Give me constant hope,
maybe then we'll talk;
perhaps we should kiss?
To emote amiss
will make lame men walk
or help despair cope
with such freewheeling?'
'Love I know is God,
but don't ask me how:
there's no real reason
given to suspect
wrong may be correct;
yeah, open season
always here and now
buries under sod.'