This is a love poem.
"Forehead"
"I love you.
I know as much as anything, for your courage so
companionable invisible as it is,
that it passes mostly as simple good sense.
I don't mean you're practical at all.
God forbid.
Only persistent as far as dying brothers and cold calls
are concerned.
Not violent, not weak, but like a lantern a float on a wave.
Open if necessary, to sinking your light offshore.
Onshore I am as you would know strongly,
sometimes impatient, and inside a swarm of loud thoughts,
self-absorbed and locked up.
If you were to die, who would remove me from those thoughts?
When you lean your forehead against mine
what you hear inside there are all those sounds likely,
vibrations like window panes rattled
by headland squalls or bullet trains,
late forever and loaded down with passengers
green as hoodie-wearing witches.
I lean my forehead against your forehead,
gently knowing both will shortly vanish.
First of all, says Virgil, find a protected place for the bees
to make their honey, a place that's safe from wind."
So that last sentence was a quote from Virgil's "Georgics",
which I found actually, I mean, there were--
Virgil, parts of Virgil that I love, but I found
the "Georgics" a little boring.
It's mostly about farming.
If you like, want to learn how to farm,
Virgil's "Georgics" is where you should go.
I'm a city guy.
Yeah.