Book of Love (Part 4 of 5)

Ice, it gets under your feet.
You don't know it's there.
I was thinking of Keats, Baudelaire.
I was thinking of boys.

Why are we ashamed when someone hurts us?
Because it marks us, as valueless.

I can't hear you man
you're breaking up
I'm losing you

who goes above
so this is all up or down wander wander
to
find love
to "find" love
to find "love"

no eye      (sewn shut)
pig iron     (saw not)

Can it be true that a lump of coal, under tremendous
pressure, will become
a diamond?
That a block of ice, as it melts, moves forward?

It was my father
who put the reindeer up on the mirror, at Christmastime.
Think of him

in the way he'd want you to think of him
(as every treasure wants
to be hidden first, then found--
the same with every crime, they say)