No title for it
I believe love is the only possession
that we are allowed to leave Earth with,
so a hoarder I have become.
bliss in boxes built like Babel
without the dialect changing for its different forms
to converse to continue construction.
With the firmament under foot
galaxies become stepping stones of fruition
towards the summit of this matter.
I have seen Love's facial features
chiseled through its work, and its smile
when hate dissipate.
I glance back at its conception, Its birth,
and watched it crawl into trust. Trust taught
it to walk, and when walking became balanced
it morphed into shoulders that carry,
to become eyes that witness the ghosts of memories.
I've assisted the muliebrity and virile traits
to breed this passion in litters of purity
I've honed its humility to become bolder
for when I'm no longer in presence
it will impart through essence.
Copyright © Keith Linton | Year Posted 2020
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