Her hands are sea-foam from a hot Californian beach as we sit.
her eyes set on fire like a flare does in the heat of a moment, and I
I cannot feel any warmth except her hands.
When she smiles, the sun blinks and stars rain down on us,
and her hair flutters like the butterflies in my stomach as we soak in the golden honey.
This scene reads like a Shakespeare novel, however-
to indicate the second lover
in this starlight romance
seems to be treacherous waters;
what before was poetry could become a revolution with a single word.
for some, A man may spout beautiful poetry
about the woman he so wishes for.
he will only be on one knee in the front of someone he loves for one reason-
and he\'ll come face to face with a priest on a day full of hope and laughter.
a woman, so enraptured by some man,
may cry out her heart.
She can walk down an aisle,
her only fear to trip or fall,
and her mother will cry only because her little girl has flown to the arms of another. .
But for some, if the hands tied were both-
somehow love becomes a crime, and
the alleged criminals are handcuffed,
chained and dragged down,
with the metal from the rings that define their collaboration as two.
These lips locked are not stained, nor poisoned, though
some would rather have one\'s heart filled with dread and sermons than light and wedding speeches.
And if the hands were both male, well-
for no reason other than refusal
to acknowledge that time, in its kindness and wisdom,
has provided an era where love is free,
some would choose to look away rather than witness the turning of a clock
and church bells that are new music to the world.
We will not back down from what has no reason.
Your fear and sneers will flicker out to ashes;
our fire will burn brightly,
blossom into the petals of a beautiful phoenix.
we will dance in the holy water you believe to have \'cleansed\' us-
-as if you believe you have not turned your own soul rusty from hate-
and its mist will break into a brilliant rainbow.
To look away, ignore or prosecute those who cannot be anyone other than themselves
is no different than to block out the world.
Why does it make a difference?
If the lovers are girls, or boys,
they are still an orchestra of hearts that beat together in a symphony of light.
do not refuse the love the world provides,
because where else will you find it?