My love metastasized out of control

Insatiable, and blind

Surgical intervention was inevitable

But that hatpin jab was no crisp incision

My heart was only frozen in recovery


Cancer isn’t an opposing army

But just love unrestrained


Cell fish spawn


So the cure for love and cancer

Is simple

Unconditional love


Love that gives itself freely

Cling free love

Love that doesn’t need reassurance or reciprocity

But simply says, be free

My love, be free


Quantum love


Erasing the illusion of distance

Standing outside of linear time

It just is, simply

In the now of a forever more

Where I extend my hand to you

Offering a gentle brush of fingertips

Without closing my fingers around yours

Open to possibilities unplaced


Post-colonial love

Anarchistic love

Unbound by convention

But held up by respect

Is what I mean when I ask you

To let me love you



David Trudel  ©  2012




Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Love

  1. Post-colonial love. David, you are so damned good at these.

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