All seems different,
like a blurry landscape
with vanishing maps.
The distance from the past
keeps growing.
I slice through space and time,
on the chosen path,
along a trajectory of circumstances.
Against the denial of access,
against the gate closing,
just to hold together what was apart.

I am ten crows, twenty-three starlings,
one tree, a world of racket, every dusk that ever was.

I am a holy heart four angels defend,
other times I am nothing but flesh and fingertips.

There are four seasons, three necessities,
two sides to the moon.

The window has eight panes;
I am in them all.

The I is capitalized and spaced off from love

Love is thinner than a piece of cheesecloth,
transparent yet confusing to navigate.
More conservative than a political debate
More hearts are broken than mended
.
I am determined to search globally for an end to this love.
We desire it fiercely and embrace our fate to heal humanity.

Love may be a fleeting remedy,  
Yet we pursue it with fervent desire,  
Yearning to feel complete.

How many times must someone
How many times must we yearn to feel complete?  
How many times will we be let down by this thing called love?  
He loves me, or he doesn’t.  
I love him, but he chooses to reject my advances.  
His heart clearly desires someone else.

Love is a cross that many of us must bear.
It can be a profound and challenging burden to carry.
However, I feel empathy for its victims in relation to what we call love.
Love cannot be controlled or confined.