What if

What if
love’s one purpose is to return
you to us again
from the oldness of a feeling
that you called love?
Your old love, we say.

What if
love is not one (haven’t you already known)?
Never meant to be.
A nature’s jolt to say, enough
is enough with living with
whom you use to be?

What if
yours to be light footed?
The beloved.
The huntress of rakes. Forever damsel.
You don’t need no cheque leaves
to pay your bills.

For you
are the sovereign.
The law of the land.
The North Star of a dreamer.
One true love of an idealist.
The arbiter of preening peacocks.

And what if
you are more?
If only you ask for more
the entourage of men
will pay you darling tributes carried in Louis Vuittons
and build you a ballpark for your children to play?

For them
not known love’s whimsical play.
Not a surety, an adventurer’s delight,
on a bad day. On a good day
it’s a bliss, but on a temporary land:
no safe house for me and you to stay.

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