The Sphere of Love
The world of so-called love turns out to be
A planet strewn with obstacles that range
From seismic rifts (as in my heart) to strange,
Cold vanities like boulders cunningly
Concealed beneath deceptive clouds of warm
Attractiveness. Its plains are glacier wastes
Which glow with evanescent air that tastes
Of joy’s strong gravity—and then of harm.
These landscapes are unchartable since deep
Emotions’ shifting plates combine with soul-
Eroding forces scouring pole to pole,
And passions atrophy where harsh winds sweep.
Explorers in this alien atmosphere
Have little hope of gain, and much to fear.