Love

I think I would love if never having been taught: Love, a fiber within my fibers of being, an ethnic beat within my vibratory skin--resounding, rhythmic pulses of heartfelt reflection.... Oh, there is rhythmic refrain even in the seeming tone-deaf; symmetry even in the asymmetric – for most sound begins long before the audition, and patterns are preformed by our hidden attributor, the unseen architect of all destiny, omnipotence we sense behind existence, close as self while elusive as a shooting star.... To know is to stop living – and to live, is to love what we don't know, while embracing for no other reason.... The walking dead fewer than one thinks, though a deep trench through the soul of experience.