Heart of Love

sometimes love spreads its spores
and they, wriggling, enter your pores
finding your heart is an open port

at the very center of rivers with red shores.
they feed its greed and desirous stupor
heeding its cry, ‘more! more! more!’

but like an addict, crippl’d on the floor
even its regular tasks become a chore
and it soon decides to beat no more.

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