Love but You Love

trees with their trunks moving too deep into the ground,

or way up reaching further and further into a sky,

never quite understanding the sense of direction 

when they choose to exist as they lend themselves for people to reach

the sky they're made themselves of while digging into their earth.

Black, on white paper, on which the same people glue death to life.

the unfilled space of your love is the promise of

the future, that black hole of everything and every things,

the backup of what is to come, what was denied, 

what was, what is, what has always been,

never quite understanding why people struggle to get,

when they've already been on both the giving and receiving end when what is true is true

or else, they have never been.

Bigger limbs reach out of the sky-sized palms

succumbing to the lost reality of us humans

asking ourselves why being splendid does not

translate into a chosen kind of beauty, but into

beauty itself as nature never asks itself questions.

in the natural order of things,

You should have known better that

fighting for love can be less forgiving than fighting love

And then you take the experience, make something extraordinary out of it

in its pressed paperless taste of death mixed with life

On the other hand, all this fight has made you nothing less than love-worthy

A love that on the revolutionary ladder of the giving end calling for the receiving end 

has taught everyone and everything

That love exists.

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