Chancer

27 Sep 2009

Niall Campbell

boy, you know nothing of love,
nothing of how it’s proved:
there’s the kiss; the kiss
returned; the nights awake,
consoling what needs consoled;
and then there’s you.
And I swear, by her,
that should we ever meet
I’ll prove my serious heart
by your broken teeth,
the blood on your red, red lips.