How do you fit a lifetime into five minutes?

How do you fit a whole heart into ten?

What if this is all we ever have?

How do I show you, you’re everything?

When there is no time, but time that’s not enough

to count all the stars that have existed

and a day is a minute, an hour a second

reincarnation spent in the pool of your eyes

the oval of your reflection, the arbor of your arms

wouldn’t sate my need to be

sewn into your being to hear the chime of your blood

it’s been said love is madness

by poets and musicians

who die as they seek to feel

an ounce of what I touch with you

electric; in a way that hurts beautiful

separates me from other people

except you, except you

even if you are not by my side

I am walking with your heart

burnt soles on empty beaches

loneliness is proof of devotion

the young girl who knew, before she had words

that you would always be her everything

mon ciel étoilé

whether it’s an hour, a day, a year

a life without you, is not

4 Replies to “Electric; in a way that hurts beautiful”

  1. When? Where?
    Do these apply in feeling
    Love is something real
    So real, immediate, present, encompassing
    Beauty and pain coexist
    Inside or outside of Time
    Or Time and distance
    Turned inside out?

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