When love touches the quick
of heart and muscle,
steers the mind
with seeming magical chemicals
that intoxicate the brain,
upsets the normal balance,
calm and sane,
this is the spark of creative fire,
that frees the phoenix of desire
and set all senses ablaze,
in psychedelic dances of physique,
like those myriads of semen, when let lose,
seek their way in desperation,
find their goal,
hell bent on achieving pure euphoria.

Yet on analysing this strange state of life,
we find it's all created in the host,
not always shared by both,
the lovers like two doves a cooing,
form their wooing,
do their best to lend an ear,
reshape themselves
to fit each passing whim of fate,
the outcome depending
on how they can relate;
if this state is permanent, it matures,
becomes a bond
that nothing can destroy,
in friendship deeply felt,
then harmonised in thought and deed,
they thrive,
and this must be the reason we survive.