To remember when
heart became liquid
falling onto
concrete ground;
a harsh plane
with reality
mixed in the mortar
never to reflect
true intentions and
purpose;
there it was
hot sun, baking
molecules
scrunching atoms
as beats scattered
unrelenting.
never truly, did
it have a shape
or form - love,
Eros, agape!
The journey goes
beyond time and space
chooses not to
retrace, and never
lives on borrowed time.
It conjures and lays
quietly, awaiting the magic
of intentions, and glory
of spirit unglued.
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