The orb reflects 
off window sending
bold orange bouncing
off walls and 
linens landing and 
leaving brightness and 
shadows painting us
with fingers as 
we dip and 
swirl in same 
spreading sun about 
like two children 
dabbing in watercolors
making either art
or a mess

What love really 
means when given 
is not the 
present oh no 
for that’s happened 
but the future 
for love is 
itself the fabric 
you and others 
whom you choose 
to forever love 
are lint or 
patch or thread 
changing you forever 
for good or 
bad or other 

We are one 
carried by two 
a mirror in
each hand reflecting 
wand in other 
conjuring happiness and 
life’s grandest wishes 
eyes like cameras 
and ears like 
microphones catching even
the subtlest sounds 
of stars and 
sighs and whispers 
hands that touch 
with a child’s 
curiosity and caution 
and the soul 
like the sea
often calm seldom 
stormy always there 

We never 
end really 
as much 
as retreat
we do 
that us
just like 
people who 
sit in
front of 
fires be
it bon
or place
move back 
once things 
get too
warm being 
so close 
and us
being embers
quietly glow 
until once 
again ignited 

I’m not lonely 
loneliness requires someone 
else for perspective 
I live and 
love in solitude 
and silence requiring 
no one else 
for me for 
I to understand 
anything I’m meant 
to be alone 
with just myself 
as my reflective 
point of reference