This little heart of mine
I’m gonna let it pound
the way it does
lead me to and fro
batter me into rocks and slide me off the edge of the world
this little heart of mine
It’s always going to win.
And I will never stop finding my way to your shore
I will never stop washing up on the edge of that distant horizon
frozen in time, monumentally magicked into being
stuck in a truth far truer than now.
there is regret, but mostly there is gratitude
that a life could ever have been painted such hues,
that the secret veil of the earth could ever have been pulled back
for the slightest moment
to reveal that diamond-crusted surface of the soil
that rests beneath our sun-drenched skins
we are there, we are there,
we are always there
That’s at least one truth that never seems to split
that law of conservation of energy
that I twist and manipulate to mean
that if I pressed the toes of my soul into the ground deep enough
with enough intention
with enough commitment
to existing inside of a moment
I believe that it would hold within it
such inextricable meaning
that the universe itself would recognize the beauty
and would hold on to it. Would lace it around the great bubbly, spherical surface
of the universe
and keep it. That it would exist in the truest sense of the word
And to exist, truly, in a state as strong as that love,
would be to exist eternally.
For love is a magic that knows no bounds.
For love is an oath to time.
For love is a promise that beats with the heart of the stars.
For love is still there, waiting on a hill, in a twilight moment, in a young girl’s memory,
in a young boy’s dream, in a silent kiss between two souls that seemed to stitch together in time and space. For love is still there. I am still there. Filling up that space with significance.
And as long as that space is still there,
so are we.