In Ancient Rome, Emperor Claudius II outlawed marriage, thinking it would produce better soldiers for his army. Saint Valentine married couples in secret, and when he was found out, was put to death.
There is no altar here.
No organ ringing through sanctuary.
Yards of tulle and lace and satin
Do not cloak us
the way the darkness does.
The only light shining
through stained glass
is a February moonlight
we tip-toed past to get here.
There is no crowd, no friends,
no family, no countrymen.
There will be no gifts
or food or wine.
We have been freed
from the show of it all.
In the plumes of cold breath-smoke
exhaled between us
we made a promise
that no man can put asunder.
Tell me we cannot.
Tell me you know love
like I did on this night.
Giving us nothing to fight for
will always be their greatest mistake.
I have built my altar here.
In my lover’s rosary bead arms,
in the veiled existence
of a finite eternity.
How can I possibly shed
any blood in the name of my country,
if they have ordered the removal
of our hearts?
Telling a child not to run
will only make him
faster.
This night is cold
and dark
and quiet
but we are alive in this stillness.
With firefly skin
and silk kite smiles
all touch and taste
and poetry.
How often does midnight
feel so sunshine?
And morning
so betrayal?
How often must we kiss
in whisper?
Become fluent in secret,
read eyelashes and stares
like scripture?
Lover-
You are light enough
for me to live in this darkness.
You are the warmth enough
for me to endure this chill.
You are beautiful enough
to surpass a crowd of people,
a dress of sillk,
an altar of gold.
Your voice a temple,
that no organ could fill.
You are more wedding
in your nakedness
than I will ever deserve.
I will kneel at the sight of you,
utter the holiest of prayers
in tongues that will
bring Jesus to glimmering tears.
No country nor religion,
No other human
will ever be as worthy
of this sacrifice.
No one thing
will ever be more satisfying
to die for
than you.
