BECAUSE SHE WOULD ASK ME WHY I LOVED HER by Christopher Brennan

If questioning could make us wise
no eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
if all our tale were told in speech
no mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh and love not bound in hearts of flesh no aching breasts would yearn to meet and find their ecstacy complete.
For who is there that loves and knows the secret powers by which he grows? Were knowledge all, what were our need to thrill and faint and swertly bleed?
Then seek not, sweet, the If and Why I love you now until I die: For I must love because I live And life in me is what you give.

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