Seventh Piece (Love’s Paradox)

There, five inches above your rosy skin, is a hand,
a gesture, a hesitation, a tired bird looking for a nest, my hand.

How infinitely close Pluto is to his gold-haired Sun.
How infinitely far you are to my uncertain touch.

Why have we come to this, darling love!

On this cold blue evening we are as close as two stars,
and as far apart as you are in my arms.

3 responses

  1. Love may not learn to value its majestic bliss until the dark hour of deprivation descends upon it. Truly a magnificent post that was decorated with heart warming imagery. Thank you for sharing such a marvelous post! According to your convenience please do read some of my writings would love to know what you think about them 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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