I go back and
forth from
knowing
love is real
and does not
exist at all

but for a moment
usually right before
the sun sets at dusk
and there's a veil of
light flooding
the sky, a blushing
pall of pink

I feel the pull of
ecstasy;
the magnetizing force
of longing in
sleepy hues
of orange and ginger
where the thought of you
shields my skin.

so what is gravity,
if not love
and a sunset,
if not love,
and this life,
if there is not love
to watch the sunset and
know that I exist.