Divisions of Being
Love is thought
needing a subject
and predicate
lover and object
blossom and voyeur
dreaming fond connections,
often crossing taboos
of distance…
exchanging scents and feel,
the bow, rudder and keel
of relationship
Yet, that mystery remains
the lone whale basking
seeming above the ripples
the albatross on a still night
soaring on unseen current
a collapsed sail undisturbed
by bleeding sunlight
which will I be today?
God or His Man?
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