Love is my weakness,
like cutting Samson's hair
or kryptonite to Superman,
contaminating Clark Kent's lair.
Love defeats me easily,
like Achille's heel
or Siegfried's back,
or the mistletoe arrow shot at Balder,
in Höd's innocent attack.
I am Love's victim,
Lincoln to your Booth,
Medusa to your Perseus,
or Iago to Othello,
when the General learned the truth.
I am a masochist of Love,
relishing its joyful pain,
the heartbreak and the sadness,
the bittersweet refrain,
until that love is truly lost
and new love starts again.
YOU ARE READING
Animus, poetry from the veil
PoetryPoems of mystery, imagination, and self-discovery. Love, heartbreak, revelation, and celebration are presented in this very personal collection of verse. The poetry encompasses a variety of poetic styles, each tailored to convey emotional impact and...
