Reporter's Notebook: Love Story

Reporter's Notebook: Love Story

 Who?

There are but two souls that matter on twirling Earth
            and the heavens and in between and beyond,
Swirling together in a perfect emulsion,
            and electrifying sweet, sentimental tangency:
 
Your overflowing, ebullient, joyous essence
            and my fulfilled, arrhythmic soul in your presence,
Beating together, hearts in perfected cadence,
            and sharing a single spiritual DNA.

 What?

There are but two undiluted truths that matter
            and from which all knowledge and wisdom commence,
Asserting without high-browed equivocation
            and informing our village of two among some billions:

My pure and unrestricted love for all you are

            and that you love me, unrestricted, in return,
Accepting my imperfections, flaws and failures
            and loving me--in pure perfection--despite them.

 Where?
There are but two places alone that will matter
            and around which all compasses calibrate,
Pointing into the vast, blue, and empty cosmos
            and settled with mitochondrial specificity:
 
The first place where, singularly, you are with me,
            and the second,  where I--desolate--am away,
The one where joy erupts from every molecule,
            and one where I must long for proximity.

 When?
There are but two moments in time-space that matter,
            and from which all moments from moments expand
Forward into the endlessly eternal past
            and back to the origins of unwrinkled time undone:
 
The endless, calm moment before your shy "hello,"
            and the moment after when I consumed your breath:
The first black moment when I merely existed
            and the white-hot moment of newly quickened me.
 

 Why?
There are but two reasons for breathing and hoping,
            and enduring tedium from beyond us,
Showered upon by blunt Persiod reminders
            and rejoinders against our mythical closed-loopedness:
 
That there are radiant moments we pass together
            and places where our souls and truths are commingled:
Wishes realized amid heaven-strewn meteors.
 
            And then those agonizing moments apart,
            left longing for togetherness,
                        for the other:
                                    for the why.