I should not know love

For it has never been

A whimsical desire

That tangles softly, and encases the soul

O in ovals of silhouettes

Just a lover’s dream

Merely it was a desire

Ravenous, in swirling in me

The puppet-master that made me swoops

I fell and chanted

I should not know love

For it has never been

As behind declaration

A sudden soullessness strangles me

Mirages of fingertips

That were shaped and sculpted

Tips me of

The edges I frightened

Were we’re just a dream

And it pulls towards me

In perhaps a sudden charming manner

That was found upon the snarl of a gentleman’s rose

Lips

Or somewhere in a ladies angered dainty fist

O but no we do not know love

As it is encased in me.