Indulgent

Call me indulgent,
if you must, but
it seems that love
can be nothing less.
A lover cannot keep
from indulging in such
a thing as his lovers'
heart, his very desire.
Love is indulgent
by its very nature.
A smooth, constant
current - flowing
through the heart.
It is ungraspable,
and a thing that longs
to be spoken of,
indulged in, tended to.
A heart would grow
weary. tired. and ache
if only it were to try
to keep its love
to itself. It would
burst, if kept a secret.
Hearts can only keep
love as a secret, for
so long - before the
very essence spills out,
the heart bursting
as love bubbles in
overabundance.
So my dear, yes,
do not chide me-
for a lover in love
cannot help to revel
in the pleasure love
brings. A lover may
seem self-indulgent,
but is rather indulging
in the other, and is
carried away on the
high of having it all
to keep it for himself.

© copyright by Michèle Aimée Lahaie, 2010