Dan Enache Poet Free verse

Testimony about Love in Crystals of Truth

Testimony about Love in Crystals of Truth

I will speak the truth crude as ice melted in flames of liquid mercury,
love is not always gentle but serpentines through the soul with fangs of jade,
and rarely is it fair like the cosmic scale that weighs our trembling hearts,
it does not arrive on time with music swelling like a waltz of falling stars.

Sometimes it comes limping late uncertain smelling of burnt velvet regret,
with clothes dirty from cosmic dust and eyes exhausted from searching through the void,
love does not repair you like a magic craftsman with tools of amber and light,
it finds you mid-sentence mid-failure mid-life suspended in crystal time.

And yet listen anyway with its ears of translucid crystal and living stone,
I will speak the truth: love is not the absence of loneliness but its magic presence,
it's loneliness sitting beside another loneliness in shimmering cold silence,
two cosmic voids agreeing not to leave first to remain in the luminous darkness.

Love forgets anniversaries like a mad poet who forgets his own name in wind,
but remembers the sound of your cough at three in the morning like a sacred prayer,
it fights over nothing and forgives something enormous without ever speaking its name,
it carries paradoxes that dance like fire butterflies in the desert of memory.

Here is the hardest truth to swallow like a pill of amber and aching pain,
love does not promise forever but only now this cold tea in the chipped cup,
this hand that reaches out still even when it knows how easily hands let go,
how they melt like wax in the flames of time flowing like a river of mercury.

And yet I swear this too in the name of dead stars floating in my chest,
when love is real it teaches the heart to stand in the witness box like crystal,
to speak without rehearsal without mask of melted wax before cosmic judgment,
"Yes I was terrified yes I stayed" like testimony carved in jade and silence.

Love is a psychedelic testimony in the courtroom of our desolate soul,
where truth flows like a river of silver tears through our trembling hearts,
where fear and courage dance together like two butterflies of light in living darkness,
where staying becomes sacred like a prayer whispered in the magic alphabet of pain.

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