For you: anthophilous, lover of flowers,
green roses, chrysanthemums, lilies: retrophilia, 
philocaly, philomath, sarcophilous—all this love, 
of the past, of beauty, of knowledge, of flesh; this is 
catalogue & counter: philalethist, negrophile, neophile. 
A negro man walks down the street, taps Newport 
out against a brick wall & stares at you. Love 
that: lygophilia, lithophilous. Be amongst stones, 
amongst darkness. We are glass house. Philopornist, 
philotechnical. Why not worship the demimonde? 
Love that—a corner room, whatever is not there, 
all the clutter you keep secret. Palaeophile, 
ornithophilous: you, antiquarian, pollinated by birds. 
All this a way to dream green rose petals on the bed you 
love; 
petrophilous, stigmatophilia: live near rocks, tattoo hurt; 
for you topophilia: what place do you love? All these words 
for love (for you), all these ways to say believe 
in symphily, to say let us live near each other.


“For you: anthophilous, lover of flowers” poema de Reginald Dwayne Betts

a 23.8.14
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