{love is a temporary madness}
it erupts like an earthquake & then subsides
& when it subsides you have to make a decision
you have to work out whether your roots
have become so entwined together that it is inconceivalbe
that you should ever part. because this is what love is
love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement,
it is not the promulgation of promies of eternal
passion. that is just being "in love" whic any of us
can convince ourselves we are. love itself is what is
leftover when being "in love" has burned away
& this is both an art & a fortunate accident.
your mother & i had it, we had roots that grew towards
each other underground & when all the pretty blooms
had fallen from our branches we found that we were
{one tree & not two}
-st. augustine-
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