Why love? Because love is alert.
That’s a good reason for love.
No one is more sensitive to being hurt
Than one in love.
The hyper-awareness of love is why
The quick, creative eye
Happily sees the truth. And dimly sees the lie.
The alert and searching eye is the heart of love.
The lover is why all lovers cry,
Why all lovers are detectives before every sequence of futurity.
You see the look in the eye, and know why—
It is a lover mad to know the answer.
This is no football player, no dancer.
Iago will rehearse
Not knowing. A lover in reverse.
But here is the philosopher—tortured and alert,
In love with you, and hurt,
Tortured and curious beneath the sun,
Watching stars hate stars
Until the fire and the mystery are done.