Love is a thief


Casual words exchanged

mingled with general banter,

each a baited hook.


Fleeting glances risked

in the constant movement,

each a loving look.


Rubbing shoulders lightly

in passing closely,

risking something more.


My skin aches to touch you

awareness excited

in every pore.


Despairing of the situation

I ask how love can thrive

with these complications.


Venus came to me to ease my torment.

“My son is a thief” she said,

“He lives on stolen moments.”


Copyright D. Clancy (1987)


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