Tag Archives: Of Love Poems

Of Love Poems

You can’t write a love poem these days, even the poem doesn’t want
it, it wants to be a marching song, an outraged movement, a raving

anthem with bloodstained robes and flesh under its nails, a sunset
that bounces back from the horizon to reclaim its space. We are

inside-out bards, cynicism dripping from our quills, the words to our
sonnets curling their lips in disdain, love somehow staring at itself