Monday, August 17, 2009

From "The Mirror of Love" by Alan Moore

We gasped

upon Devonian beaches


under Neolithic stars.

Spat blood

through powdered teeth,

staining each other

as we kissed.

Always we loved.

How could we otherwise,

when you are so like me,

my sweet,

but in a different guise?

While life endures we’ll love,

and afterwards,

if what they say it’s true,

I’ll be refused a Heaven

crammed with popes,

policemen, fundamentalists,

and burn instead,

quite happily,

with Sappho, Michelangelo

and you, my love.

I’d burn throughout eternity

with you.

1 comment:

Rainbow said...

Which is heavebn and which is hell? What if popes and fundamentalists go to hell?