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The Pace of Loving You
You Like it Slower Than I
The Pace of Loving You
I try to love you with speed, dear Asha, get to you before too much time passes by.
You have a little contempt when it comes to the idea that you’ll be my wife someday.
I make it a rule to go around spreading as much decency as possible, but I have no time for the disgrace that is the modern body politic.
I may be old when it comes to your younger flesh, but I’m made of a strong breed of wood and would love to be the manager of your elegant skin.
Don’t panic, my love, I can shoot the arrow as straight as the next guy, make a choice to sit at my desk or meet you at the station using the well-worn path in the deep grass.
I fear getting shot, that the slant in the roof is the evidence of mass destruction.
I just love you with so much precision that I understand if you don’t want to cooperate.
The temperature can only be withstood by a few, and the headline will read that I cared for you on the basis of pure egalitarianism.
So, let’s meet again the dark, where I keep my machinery: the dark cellar of the mind.
I have no elaborate plans, just my desire.
