Today
in my mind, strapping on bombs
around our bodies
suicide lovers
terrorists of poetry, fiction and art
who wanted to die for it while climaxing
I found you

Over and over
I found you
wanted to love you
wanted to die and live for you
make a new religion of love for you
not out of water, but this insanity
mad with longing
hydrophobic
with no vaccination for rabies
I found you

You were not there                                                                                                                                                                                   Never there

You are not here

I found you in my words
of swearing
forever, those words of hyperbole
and in yours
promising
eternity, those words of meaning
in flesh melting
in centigrade
of high-voltage density
in the heat of this never-ending desert

and though I did not have you                                   
had only words
images
memories
and feelings
Seared, I still feared

I feared that now having finally found you
yet not having got hold of you fully
I would lose you
before I had you
and wanted to die

You told me
that is love

It must be

If so, it is more powerful
that a Van Gogh painting
than an Apollinaire poem
than ISIS or saffron fascism
than sex slaves and selling of armaments
that it burns me down entirely
like World War Three
to ashes
and honey

Let me find you again like this tomorrow too
or there will be nothing left of me
for love to cordon off and turn away
behind its barbed wire fences of no entry
with nowhere to go back to
as its last refugee before the end comes
when all subsides