Love does not make me gentle

by Christos Polydorou

Love makes me
a whiny child.
Lachyrmose. Impossible
to please.

Fussy. A real
pain in the neck.
A bull crankily
wrecking your
china shop.

When I am in love,
I don’t care about
what is possible or not,
I overlook gravity,
the sands of time,

and what type of
flowers your mother
braced the honey
with which she fed you,

making you this beautiful.
When I am in love, it is my
Happy birthday,
every day, my cake,
my candles to blow out,

my gifts. In love, so insufferable!
Place me on your knee,
and teach me, how to be.
Start with gratitude,

continue with platitudes,
end with attitude.

I needed a change.