Two Versions
I want to shout my love from the treetops
like a caged gibbon
I want to broadcast it
on all the networks, even Facebook
and let all my creditors know
so that they can place a lien
upon my heart
My lover
prefers to keep our love private
like an ecrypted password
she claims it provides warmth
only for her. She’s an egoist
of love: she likes keeping
it all to herself, a private possession
she gives to no one but me.
It’s a big world, I say,
with room for all kinds
of love. But, still,
I ask the wind: Which love
is better? Which more pure?
There’s a long silence.
The wind must be thinking.
And then, suddenly,
it begins blowing,
gently, very very gently.