The Escapeless Religion

Forget about the pleasantness of love.

You know the loving that hearts mean when they

Are hopeless, holding dreaminess above

The hormones that produce escapeless sway,

Those hormones like addiction.  You adhere

To it as if hot heroin, cocaine

Or something even worse like surging fear

Were coursing through the ventricle and vein,

Too close to pulsing feelings set upon

Your soul like coursing hounds.  They pile in close

And you are lost to canine jaws, fangs drawn,

You being victim of love’s overdose.

  Torn foxes know the awful truth about

    This loving pain, no matter how devout.