You would think that a naked baby running around with a bow and arrow would put people off of love. Keep loving, that's what you'll make: A baby. Then before you know it, he'll take his clothes off and grab a weapon. You don't want that do you?
Long ago I was smitten with someone and spent too much time composing and editing a love poem in my head. Never got a chance to tell it to her. If I ever wrote it down I forgot where and now I can't remember it except there was a sunset in it and something about her eyes. You'll just have to trust me when I say that it was really good. I mean, if I had ever recited this poem to her, a piece of her would have been mine forever. So use your imagination as I try and piece together what's left of it here:
________________ sunset _______
_________eyes________________
____________________________
____________________________
____________________________
____________________________
____________________________
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Although some parts are missing, I think you can still appreciate its power. Mr. Lova Lova, that's me.
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