There’s truth now behind, that great irony: You can’t see the forest from its multitudinous trees. Well, at least be aware that the spirit is there in entirety. It encompasses space that time will erase unless its wisdom we heed. But the spirit remains for a moment. A ghost put to shame, and we are to blame, for owning it which cannot be tamed. Time is meaningless, but the world isn’t gleaning this, not understanding this fleeting kiss, our touch is infectious, reckless there is no way to reset this. Denature our Mother that we so unjustly smother for this appetite we can never sate. As Love turns to Hate, Our Kiss turns to ****, til we ignore what we can’t flee, can’t see the Forest from the Trees.