if I were lucky enough to be loved
by love which I can’t even remember
then a shared cruise on your well-stocked balloon
would now be far too tempting to refuse
but just because you’re always buoyed by hope
for some unearthly apotheosis
or high excursion off with the fairies
can never mean that I could float off too
my heart is just too heavy to ascend
in some flimsy wickerwork contraption
borne aloft by nothing more than hot air
I’m also susceptible to Cupid
& an easy target for his arrows
that’s the last thing you need when ballooning