Twenty-four

For S. L. 

Like hours in a day, the years flash by…

Like a falcon folding its wings, hurtling earthward,

like a kite tethered to the ground, we escape gravity 

only by virtue of the surrounding air.

Like a falcon folding its wings, hurtling earthward,

blind love, the meteor, seeks its fortune, ablaze 

only by virtue of the surrounding air.

Our imagined fortresses burst open with the impact of 

blind love. The meteor seeks its fortune, a blaze

of life—and death. Bound to a trajectory in this

hour, imagined fortresses burst open. With the impact of

two keeps colliding, we lie shattered in the stream

of life and death. Bound to a trajectory in this,

an unceasing cascade washing over us, we

two keep colliding. We lie shattered in the stream,

and over time our fractured edges soften, intermingle.

An unceasing cascade washing over us, we

resist yet find a way to be swept away,

and over time our fractured edges soften. Intermingled,

we love as if the world has never before known love.

Resist, yet find a way to be swept away—

like a kite; tethered to the ground we escape gravity.

We love as if the world has never before known love

like ours. In a day, the years flash by…