If though must love me, do so wholeheartedly
take your lead from Elizabeth Browning’s poetry
let her lived-in words coax free: the purity of your sincerity.
If though must love me, do so unashamedly
with the yearning grace of Edith Piaf’s loyalty
let her rose lenses, teach your restless eyes to rest: on only me.
If though must love me, do so with delicacy
like the scintillating music of Fur Elise
entice my steps as instinctively, as those dancing Piano keys.
Love me stubbornly
till harsh gravelled lungs croak
our last barks of fierce exchanges.
Love me fiercely
as circling, predators of untamed passion
never suppressing: our magnetic friction of blazing attraction.
Love me equally
from our hand-clasped sprints – in Spring, of unruly infatuation
to tender - wordless embraces, in our Autumn of friendship solemnity.
© L. B. Mek
May 2020