What else is there but love?
Stripped back, we are bare
& vulnerable,
just a basic force
in a complex being.
Pull apart all the years –
all the thoughts & transformations –
& we are left as we are,
nothing but
. a birth,
. a death,
. & the loves in between.
A version of this poem first published as But love? in Pash Capsule, 25 December, 2012
