Tactics of Love

When will we learn that sometimes our love is a demon, and that sometimes a demon can love?

If I promise not to hurt you, will you look at me in my eyes?

If I hold your hand, will you accept the touch beneath our skins?

There is a kingdom under the outer shells of our bodies and I am here,

to explore the intricate design of your soul.

If you let me I will guide you through the fallen out cities and refugee camps where I found comfort from the encroachments placed in me by those who became so lost in love that the only escape path was through pressing a button

which held at bay the inevitable self-destruction of a system far past max-capacity.

The radiation of past loves glow from within to without and unfold a series of

emergency tactics and counter-strikes until the once great city built in me, for me,

lay in decrepit ruins crumbling around me.

I have cleared away everything I could, but how can one clear away what they cannot see?

The depths of my soul ring with an electronic babble of times past, until I discover that like most uncomfortable noise, this one too slowly fades away.

Then you entered.

I watched you curiously looking through the bombed out boutique windows,

stopping at the now empty museums commemorated in the honor of those who have now left.

In your skin too I see the afterglow of someone infected with the twisted love we are told to feel.

You turned the corner and there arrived at the town square I once held court at.

You looked up and saw me, and our souls began the dangerous dance we have been taught.

Infantry, navy, bombardiers, cavalry will be called in a sacrificial onslaught labelled self-defense.

Then, right before the lines are drawn, you close your eyes.

What happened to the battle?

The war?

I was never a fan of initiating conflict, but now what?

In the silence, a footstep is heard.

My eyes shut too.

Another footstep.

Another.

Have I ever known the feeling of another soul against mine?

How do you love someone when they are afraid?

Love is not about change it is about acceptance.

I accept you for all that you are and I will promise to never look only at who you are in my mind,

but to constantly look back into your eyes to see the gentle smile, the warm comfort, you.

Yet at times when I look up, all I can see is you running, running, running away.

Your hand presses into my own, but the love is lost in the mazes of your own soul and I

am so tired of chasing my way through labyrinths of heart, mind, and body without so much

as a turning glance of recognition.

I have slain my demons, mapped out the walls of my own mind, and now have come out the other end ready to feel the touch and love of a familiar form.

My heart is in your hands.

Are you ready to open your eyes?