Love, they say.
Whether it’s the sneaky, while-you-were-looking-elsewhere kind
Or a thunderbolt that smacks you
And leaves you reeling like walking into a door in the dark,
It arrives – a huge and solid thing
Immovable and permanent
Stone
I love you, they say
And it’s a fact, like gravity
Or the wetness of rain
A foundation for the future; a thing to lean their lives against
Even when neither of them is looking
Love you, they say
As they rush onwards
But then on a Tuesday evening under the sound of the TV
One of them will notice
It’s gone
And
You, they say
But it’s too late
