Love’s Paradox

What’s the path, my love?—for ours is the calligraphy of

Spirit. Thus, through love we taste the essence of

Immortality. But tears have become a puddle. The thicket

Is insufferable. And joy has never felt so effulgent. It’s

The paradox of love—the texture of confusion. My love,

The garden is filled with dreams, and we have walked the

Axis of visions, edging the precipice of despair. But your

Smile, as radiant as sunbeams, permeating the universe.

Our contradiction is a cosmic fable, where lovers both fall

And rise simultaneously. It digs into the psyche, a godly

Seesaw, the pendulum of mystery. And it infuses the soul

With the inexplicable. Upon a whetstone passions are    

Exhausted. It’s the majesty of birth, royalty, and life. It’s

Beyond measure, churning the stomach unto explosion.