That medicates all grief,
Laminating fragments of you that
Gyrate on the spirals of creation.
To love another, to take them all in,
To see the good, acccept the bad,
To feel for them an array of sparks
Lost to most, perceived by the chosen,
To understand in them what others cannot,
To forgive their gravest transgressions,
Speckle their charming quirks
On a map of your soul
Whose destination is happiness,
Completion, the holiest of states,
To love, my dearest, is to see them
In perfect harmony with something you lost,
The answer, the missing piece
To witness their being as God intended.
In faint hollow light the pendulum swings,
Gadgets of clockwork to split the scene,
Oscillating glimpses of smiles that sing,
Reaching the choir uplifted by strings,
Into oblivion the fulcrum retrieves
Remembrance of bliss, a body so clean
To rinse you of folly once thought obscene,
Creamy skies by delight, your love alight
On the other side, revolving through night,
Returning after each flight, momentary fright
Bedazzled by billowy azurite.
Balance we must master, to receive the peace,
We must adapt to their soul like a new land,
Adapt their differences, slide into the gears,
Not force their hand in mechanical blunder,
But naturally through the odysseys of Venus,
A lone star in that paradise of togetherness,
Where beams sway to the ticking of hearts,
Expiring only by the malfunctions of pride, or death.
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