A Poem by LE Francis

Comfort by Latrelle DuBose

Rebuttal to ‘Lovesick’

It is said that the heart wants
& wanting is a suffering;
wanting is a vine,
a thorny thing that
roots inside our ribs;

wanting is an infant,
an able pair of lungs
wailing on its own;

                wanting is an impatient guest,
                a knock and then our answer.

We treat it like a seasonal disorder,
it will only be love for so long and then--
then it's time to plant next year’s blooms,
it's time to read the soil, to read the shade,

then pass the blame like a cough, say
'it's nobody's fault when the seasons change.'

It's comforting to think
it is out of our hands,
to believe that the whims
of desire somehow diminish
the burden of our freedom,
less the weight of the sky
as we struggle to sleep;

so much easier to
say I'm lonely than I'm afraid.



LE Francis lives in the Pacific Northwest. You can find her online at nocturnical.com.

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