_By John Quinn_
I am tired of the word `argument`,
the way it makes an enemy
out of everyone
I want
to get closer, nearer than words,
touch the other in her thoughts,
the nakedness of truth that hides
under a cover of opinions.
And what do we really see
at the best of times:
masks we mistake for faces! I want
our spirits to embrace in the night,
where reason holds no light
and logic is silenced
by the heart. Let go.
Let my hand find its home in your hand so we might walk this world
as children through enchanted woods,
unafraid because we never knew
darkness until it was a cloak
to wrap love in like the skin on your bones – so soft in my hands,
the curves I trace with eyes closed against fear . Let me argue only to hold you closer.