Love in a Later Time

'If you go clinging to love's spine,
she'll shake you off her back, dear boy.'
And so I wait for love in a later time.

'Love is a slippery thing, its slime
turns predators to prey, makes a killer coy.'
I count the vertebrae, clinging to love's spine.

'You can polish love, but it won't shine:
it's the dirtiest and most worn coin. You'll toil.'
And so I wait for love in a later time.

'Love's a pike swallowing poetry, line by line;
it'll only try to pull you in and under. You'll be its toy.'
I shan't go clinging to that love's spine,

for love like that's romantic crime.
'Ah, so be careful. Keep love's cogs oiled:
treat her well in love's later time.'

I will, I will. I'll speak it and not mime.
These lips shall spume forth geysers of joy.
I'll take these hands from off love's spine.
In light or shadow, I wait for love in a later time.