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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