Always.

If only people understood
that one can love more
than one with tributaries
running in parallel, without
feeding off each other, that
the vectors of my love don’t
intertwine and dissect, rather
time and space does, and
thus, my mind and body,
but love is not in the encompassing
attention that I can dispose to
one at one space-time coordinate
but the overarching rib-cage
of feeling that melts into one
candle wick whose wax never
wears off – rekindled each time
with words, voices and presence
for the vortex in the centre of
my chest relives the warm
liquid nervousness, and my
body remembers your touch.
There is an eternality to love,
if we let ourselves share it with more
not in the coffin of singular expression
but in the in-between of presence,
that I will always share with you.

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