Just So

That sweet life in you pulls me from the oven of self. Think of me as a lump of clay you alone can breathe life into. If I should think of you, if I could, it would be as two artists completing the same image, together able to co-create one thought of perfection. More than the language of hands, more than the idiom of tears, greater than the invention of self-idols, or the swift climactic passions that shatter but not mend, is that one thought of love within its holy moment. No longer would we be broken bridges between blind eyes and mute lips. but both the same center, both the balance and the fulcrum, just as there is naturally that symmetry of awareness of flowers to the light - just so.