Two Poets; Define Love

It is Thursday the 6th of December. The snow blows gracefully in the air, right onto both James’s and Harold’s faces. They both shiver as they bring out some blankets to sit on. They sit in the same gazebo as they always do, every Thursday, every each week. They are about to talk, on yet another, heavy topic; Love. Neither of them, ironically, has ever been in a relationship.

Harold: Brrr. It’s cold today!

James: Indeed!

Harold: You remember what the new topic was going to be?

James: I think—I think it was, about, relations?

Harold: Relations? I believe it was about-

James: Was it about hope?

Harold: No no, it wasn’t going to be about hope either.

James: I’ve lost hope. You figure it out.

Harold: You were close when you said relations, I think.

James: Was I?

Harold: Yes, well, close but still far away.

James: Sounds like love to me.

Harold: That’s it! Love!

James: Oh?

Harold: Yes. Love.

James: I’m not in the mood for love—

Harold: What do you mean?

James: I mean. I don’t have anything to say about it.

Harold: Nor do I, to be blunt. So, we switch subject?

James: I don’t want to leave anything out.

Harold: let’s drink some tea and think about it for a while.

James: Ok.

The two young poets pour up each other a cup of tea. They both look up the sky. Harold begins smiling and sort of taps his finger around his temple. James is too busy covering his eyes from the snow that continually keeps hitting his face. James closes his eyes—then reaching for his cup of tea, accidentally dipping his finger in the tea, burning his finger. He let’s out a heavy sigh, forcing the pain inwards, sucking on his finger, he seized his moment. He’s now just as dazed and taken by a deep concentration as Harold is.

And they begin… It’s all very chaotic, they just blur out things, quick, loose.

Harold: Isn’t love about being appreciated? Being thought about and depended on, in a more thoughtful and the most caring way.

James: When two people meet each others needs, Love occurs?

Harold: Or is it all physical? Lust?

James: Of course mankind must ensure its survival. Which we have. Alcohol brings people closer together than what you might think. But it’s in the incorrect way.

Harold: When two people meet and suddenly, somewhat look at each other in a special way—

James: It’s about feelings. Definitely. Sharing each others feelings?

Harold: Or does lust turn into love?

James: Lust & Love must be very close together for it to work.

Harold begins drawing letters on the bench.

Harold: L stands for Lust, U stands for urge, S for seized and T for—Uh-

James: You almost had it. It’s: L for Living, U for Urge- Just as you said, S for sensation and T for—

Harold: See? The last letter is tough.

James: And T for Tough?

Harold: Hm, maybe.

They both kind of, sing out- in separate turns, in a poetic kind of way. The meaning to the spelling of the word.

James: To love is to live, to live is to love. To love is to urge for someone. Love, can be or become a sensation. But it can also be tough?

Harold: Hm. Love is Lust, as Lust is Love, Lust is to urge for someone, an Urge for…Love? Seized, the moment love occurs, you’re seized?

James: on the other hand, Love cannot be defined…

Harold: It can be too many things.

James: Exactly.

Harold: It’s impossible to define something that can be so many things?

James: It’s like a chameleon it switches identity.

Harold: It—

James sighs and interrupts Harold.

James: Can we call it a night?

Harold: But it’s only 3 in the afternoon?

James: I need a break.

Harold: And do what, exactly? What can be better than this?

James: Not better, but easier. I’m going to the tavern.

Harold: To?

James: To-

Harold: To seek companionship? All this talk about love, eh, James?

James: No no, I was thinking I’d eat cherries till I drop.

Harold: Why not just a few beers?

James: I don’t drink.

Harold: Ah.

Harold: I think I’ll join you.

The two young poets stands up, shake their legs about. Pack their rug sacks with the blankets and cup’s. They walk away, again, without resolution…