How can anyone be Love?
Why would anyone want to be Love?
When you are Love, all they do is take, take, take,
Like starving little ants,
Ruthless and thankless
Enough to drive you mad.
And there is Love,
Being eaten away, alive
And still Love remains
Calling all things to itself.
Drawing all those unsatisfied and fleeing this earthly nothingness
Seducing them to become like unto itself,
Those precious few, those holy ones
Who become Love in the heart of the world.