Love is our yearning to create the thing
We love out of what speaks to us alone
In someone else—and make its beauty sing—
Like statues are created out of stone.
Love is like gravity, distorting space
And time, till there’s just nearness and the now,
A universe in someone else’s face,
And faith to fuel the jet of fancy’s vow.
Love is a chrysalis that will give birth
To something new with wings, that will not stay
Wherever is it paid less than it’s worth,
Or owed more than it gives, but fly away.
Love is like war—we’re haunted by each past one,
And always end up re-fighting the last one.
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