Tattoos in Mayberry

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Summer's End.

Hate, resentment and contempt can motivate, corrupt and destroy.  
I've heard love bantered around like they know what it means.
So much like a shop girl peddling strong perfume...
Love may be a construct, or a bad chemistry experiment.
Let's examine it under the microscope.  We might
find the unexpected gelling on a petri-dish.  
I believe in the laws of nature,
Attraction and repulsion, gravity and the like.
We compare beauty in the animal kingdom. Beauty in the
human form. Great art and architecture.
We know what lust is.
Yes- some of us are captivating, inspirational, even.
We flock to be near them.
hoping to grab  a speckle of their sparkle.
Fearful of their scorn.
Like a match to a flame.
Beauty can burn.
So what of those few who are so stunning,
as to make us involuntarily quiver.  
Bending their minions to commit irrational acts?
Surely, these stunners have an answer to the love question?
Would they horde surplus love?
Could they bring gorgeous left-overs home in a to-go-box,
nibbling  on a lovers flesh, tearing it from the bone?
Delicious. Satisfying.
Going down, like junk in the needle. The menu includes:
Back-seat, blue-ribbon,
runner-up and pit-stop love.
Community love,obsessive love,
co-dependant love, long-distance love,
true love, love on the run,
love on the installment plan.
Honorable-mention love, and finally
Love on jagged rocks.
Conjugal Love, or marriage, has a religious/legal feel to it.
They begin in a meadow and move
on to a church with well wishes and celebration,
but often end abruptly in the dim light of a courtroom.
I'm no player hater, with little need to rubber-stamp
what excites me, what I find beautiful,  and worth
fighting for.
Love is a rose cut off at the stem.
I don't know if love's real.
War and death is.
Say you care about you and me.
Are you getting comfortable with
your inner hate monger? A dance with hate.
Ever been truly lost in a vortex of love?
I was in love at the apex of my youth.
Everyone said it was my endless summer.
What wasn't examined so closely was...
I was born in the coldest week in winter
in a very high lattitude. A  tilted, bad machine,
with a Western name, and an Eastern
religion, conflicted by culture
obsessed with laws, but not my laws.
We love like sheep in the dark.
I suspect there is no such thing as love...A mere invention of Madison Avenue.
A ring toss for cupie dolls,
in a lost Nixon summer,
sweating bullets at the county fair.

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Summer`s End.