The Distance

There lies a distance between all souls;


Upon occasion, is bridged with

Fiery and mysterious passion.

Gregarious souls

Claim to know this bridge


While souls locked in solitude

Perpetually mourn

It's absence.

Yet can one claim to truly know Love?

It is Magic,

It is Science.

It is Pain,

It is Joy.


Lost and Found.

In sooth, none know Love.

It is an exotic thing;

Worthy of both adoration and horror.

It is guilty of the most heinous of crimes,

Yet lauded for tear inducing heroism.

We claim to know Love;

And give it Colors

And Labels.

Burning Red!

Luscious Pink!

Are only colors which flit

Through an adulterant head.

Love is Distance.

It is knowing when to give it,

When to receive it,

And when to endure it.

Dear Reader,

I love you.

The End

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