Love Is


Imagine us
stationed like stars next to each other,
Each a different colour and intensity,
believing that the space between us is a carrier of something that is never spoken.)

I’m going to do something different today,
I’m going to sculpt the two of us,
Into people who are figments of the other’s imagination,
I take who you are, and who I am,
And beat the edges and carve out new lines, and plaster new shades,
Until we become a giant star.

And maybe over the years,
I keep sculpting us till we arrive
At nouveau you and nouveau me,
And occasionally collide and rotate around a pivot,
Over the years we meet softly and embrace the rigs between us,
Or repel like explosive beings far away from each other moving like supernovas into the outer space.

And sometimes we will move against our hearts trying to align them to each other,
Till the tendons of our hearts are strenuous muscles,
Tough and defensive like layers of conditioning on our surfaces,
So the muscles don’t ache or break when they are punched at,
Till neither of us can feel anything,
Till they tell us,
How you are not meant for me and I am not meant for you.

In a parallel universe, maybe I will break away from our giant star,
Into dark places that our only mine,
To voices only I can hear,
And are not be shared by another supernova,
Shining in my own colour and my own intensity,
In a parallel universe, maybe I don’t sculpt you back into me.

Or maybe I will keep converting our wild imaginations into reality,
Till you’re a shade of me and I am shade of you,
A few shades away from perfection, I say,
We attach on our surfaces, our focal points never meet,
Our hearts so wired from all the pressure,
But when we bounce off from our similar shades of colours,
You do not know who you are and I do not know who I am.

poetry, ageofloveWoman Gone Rogue