i remember that feeling*

like a dusty childhood memory
of playing in the sun
under the trees
like something that we can recall
but never revisit
she talks about love like it's a stage of life that we move through
not an enduring present

i am the same
it is an illusion we use to torture ourselves with
and the wise choose to forget the crossed stars and the blue lights and the blood trails
we align ourselves by other means
grinding our feet into the ground
cementing the way we interpret human connection

truth and love aren't universal
they are abstract concepts that no one can pin down long enough
to understand
we believe in floating definitions
and base our actions thus
truth and love are bullet-fed cherubs
murdering humankind