Love in Time
The moon caresses blackness to French Blue.
Love is rich, golden crown, lapis royal;
say now as before, Bessie, time loves you.
It signals love awake, the sun pulls through.
Love meets an African foot to soil;
the moon caresses blackness to French Blue.
On the long walk home love is a tattoo;
lives intertwined—drip eucalyptus oil.
As I’ve said before: Nina, time loves you.
Not that love won’t hurt and splinter you cool.
Blackness may come, looking for hearts to spoil;
the moon always turns blackness to French Blue.
Time heals wounds as brand new love passes through;
Sarah breathes breath as two hearts move now embroiled.
I’ve said before, Ella, even time loves you.
If love will last and time will heal—renew;
the night combined with time shall see you through.
The moon caresses blackness to French Blue;
I’ve said this before: even time loves you.
