OF LOVERS AND SURVIVORS

I. The Mover

When the Mover comes, I'll say to her,
"Move me."  Move me with talk of love.
Use words I haven't heard before
In ways I understand.
			"Be everything
I've been moving toward, hoping for 
For so long."


		II.  No Victims

		Words of love die young.
		First they're subtly obsessed,
		Then painfully sincere.  But
		When the words become transparent,
		Like ones I used to mean,
		They choke off early and die young,
Leaving me waiting for the mover,
No wiser from experience 
Or more patient for endurance.
			There are no victims,
			Only lovers and survivors.


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