I must ask you what you think
love is, when love is not what love was
when first we quenched thirst with drink
both drinking finding just what love was.
Since we’d never found what love was
seeking love through normal means
like campuses and offices,
or chip-shops, parks, in staff canteens,
in garages we could not find it
nor in marriages or divorce.
I sought for it in optimism,
You’d sought it in remorse.
But neither of us having found it
neither of us guessed what love was,
nor surmised, that found, we’d pound it
down till it was not what love was.
Neither of us thought that ill
may come from finding what we’d longed for:
neither of us owned it was the thrill
of losing love we’d longed for.
(David McLintock)