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Love is this two empty chairs we use to sit, drowning in pain and dust. Love is counting hours into days in the most littlest bit, over and over until you are lost. Love is Quantum physics, for I find you in every bit of time and its relics. Love is the weather,  how you cloud my thoughts, rain my crops, paint my days in colors that painted rainbows and unicorns and I'd say you spring my summer too like dewdrops on baby leaflets but how do I tell them your smiles, silent torrent waves, and make angry tornadoes set?

You have every reason to not believe me, for I used to be a poet before this, for all the letters I wrote to you, all the love I do have for you, never reached your galaxy and, I'm not blaming you for not loving me, or for letting a ripple sweep you off your feet when I came with a tsunami, for letting the sun take over every source of light in your eyes when the crops of my heart needed you to photosynthesise, I'm not blaming you. And they say you only find true love once in a lifetime, so if only I knew how to trace you again, in quantum physics, watch how time kicks the reverse gear and run thirty years back from now to park in your backyard, I wouldn't have given you all that I had or lost hope of finding you again, after ten thousand trials, three thousand, or ten.

Something keeps telling me that these stories of lifetimes one day will get to you. But if they don't, know that I couldn't find you only because you were my everything and in everything I do, will it be selfish that I ask for more?


-Mr.X
©4.02.2022
Excerpted from 'The Book of Constellations'.

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