I Make Love... Poem by Lisa Nickle

I make love...
No
I am incapable of such a creation
I can make chaos
Dissemble all threads of hope.
I can weave illusions.
Lies are the product of my lips.
I can mold clay in my hands
and hope that is speaks to another.
I can call to Lust
and build the fire
that nearly consumes us...
Til it dies
Leaving ashes
as a a void of ill-creation.
I can chisel jealousy,
a cruel stone around the heart,
and make believe that I am in love...
But, the art of making love
that is far
far from my hands.

July 11,2010