Love Dance

I write for the love of souls
springing in the garden of Eden
Dancing and heaving with silent custom
of tolerable love and pity for the cross
There is vividness and composition
in knowing the form and feeble content
There is keen acknowledgement of love and loveless
of this world, there is a rise for the devil
the knowledge of Eve is scanty as to know the
soul that has wrung on sides of passion
and darkly the dance lit with its own blackened self 
Here is the soul pitying love for more to follow
and rest with the thought of loveless and divine
heading for the groundless companion waiting in dance move
squish he comes squash she goes
which way love battles togetherness
as the barber put on a nice mirror
saying I was the sole handsome man dancing
with her soul in arms for umpteenth time
and the self rests in the earth.  

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