Like a dancer—
her dress twirling,
I live between distances.
Between past and present.
Between horizons.
At the hemline of her skirt.
I am
the center of my own existence.
But listen:
I cannot do it without you.
No one can.
For how do we know where we stand,
if not by finding another?
Without the individual,
the collective is a ghost.
See
stalagmites, stalactites,
they rise, they fall,
clay’s own yearning to touch.
Because nothing,
nothing in this universe
is soulless.
And always
we find ourselves.
We only need to remember:
love is stronger than separation.
Togetherness,
it is not only centripetal,
it is centrifugal.
For each cannot be known
without the other.
Even the forces,
even the opposites,
are in love.
In love with what they cannot reach.
In love with what they cannot touch.
in the other.
