Shoot straight,
god:
were we made to feel
responsible
for one another
no matter what—
or not?
You'd think
that a grammar
of love
would be simple;
would flow
with the changes,
as it does
in the hymnals—
but intuitions
and affections flicker
like the red walls
of vestibules
packed with votive candles.
All of which is to say
that, focused
as we are
by a little sanctity
and ritual,
the picture's
not okay;
we're still getting
mixed signals.
