Sending Love

A poem by Catherine Olver

You've many hearts but not mine, valentine.

My love is not a valentine-

my love

speeds like the tongues of angels when there's signal;

when answerphones and end-call symbols

can't get through to love

love looks again and spies you in the crowd,

talks past barriers until allowed

to love

burns, I suppose, a little like a rose:

once read it opens as it grows

in love

is ancient, blind, untrendily

hopeful what the end will be

for love

cannot be glued and fails to be self-sticking:

this stamp's a puny substitute for kissing

your lips my love

like shellfish, but that won't go in the post:

oysters must wait until you’re close

enough to love

improperly, to rise up unprovoked,

to print your skim with stronger strokes:

LOVE

a childish thing, glow-in-the-dark,

a small and stubborn, ever-fixed mark,

this love

hides in the pen and letter's crease,

trying to last past letters' cease-

with love

hopefully enclosed,

x

You deserve to be loved.