Perhaps the prophet was right love knows not its own depth until the moment of separation... two souls made to feel as though they are joined when they are apart what remains is the ghost within... The ghost of you my body is filled with you for days and days you are the mirror of my night until always and forever... All of you my love you in a space full of sounds in the shade and in the light I number the days you are the combination of all numbers... When we make love everything is surrounded by the green miracle landscape of your body, the manner of all fruits in the juice of your lips... From you to my hands I live to caress your entire body my love, your absence springs a trembling in the ticking of the clock in pulse of morning light You breathe in the mirror you have left the taste of almonds on my lips our world never goes outside only a mountain can know the core of another mountain... ~ ~ ~