L,O,V,E and the Other Twenty-Two
A.
Without you,
an ass would be just
a snake, amore
would be too demanding,
and there’d be no
Aphrodite.
B.
Love is one person
in two bodies.

C.
Not quite a ring—
more like a Cracker Jack prize
or meeting the parents.

D.
Divorce: B loses
its better half.

E.
Almost B, but not quite.
Or perhaps B,
unbuttoned for a while.
F.
Keep watering
and it’ll grow
into something sweet-smelling
that we can call B.


G.
Closer to the gold band
than C— met the parents,
now moving in together.
H.
Eyes locked,
yet a handshake
that’s merely political.


I.
All brain, feet,
and business—
no time to be a poet
or lover.

J.
Add some mascara to I—
wink those lashes.
You’ve caught his eye.

K.
Unrequited love.
L.
J, turn away.
Play hard to get—make Jove
follow you to over to Love.


M.
Mars denies
Venus is imbedded in his self,
even as her slim waist
is in his arms.

N.
I’ll lead the dance
toward Z, falling
and bringing you with me.

O.
The ring that C
aspires to be.
Caution: D only
a straight line away.

P.
Formerly B,
now a poet.

Q.
Love can grow
and grow,
but don’t let it stray
outside the O.
R.
The poet
attempts to repair B
again
and again.


S.
When you dance like that,
wearing close to red or nothing,
you almost look like B.
T.
You make love true.
Then again,
I feel that way
about R, U and E, as well.
But I suppose only you
have that kiss.


U.
Venus
of Willendorf.
V.
Venus of Willendorf
was too lonely
to eat. She became
an inverted Aphrodite,
now solitary only
when Mars is red.


W.
Venus wages fierce kisses
on her husband, temporarily
forgiving his polemic demeanor.
X.
Knees weak,
K finally gives in
to a kiss.

Y.
Playing footsie
over a martini.
Z.
N, with feigned left feet,
half dancing, half falling
towards bed.

Jeanette Marie Sayers
Virginia Arts of the Book Center