Acts of Love

Why tangle up the cosmic plot of love,
Which wends its way with simple, artless vim?
No, dear, let’s practice parts that rise above
The strained theatrics spreading on life’s scrim.
Sure, restless masses flock to see a play
Replete with fuss and conflict—at whose end
The heart is dazed with shock or blown away
By peace ex machina . . . such folks commend
The spectacles of Sturm und Drang romance.

But think, what splendor graces calmer scenes,
Which wild, discordant twists cannot enhance.
We’ll steal the stage from drama kings and queens
When, costumed in an earthly garb, our souls
Enact—with humble grace—true lovers' roles.

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