Not you
not I
beats against
time but our
conception
of love
momentarily
disclosed
in nonchalant
repose
accidentally
catching the
gentle stroking
of the eye on
the beloved

which is not
exactly you
not exactly me
but the perennial
tide of our
mothers and
fathers cleaving
to one another
in desperate hope
of rediscovering
that gentle
rhythm that
balances
the song of
loving oneself
unconditionally.

 
© Stania Zbela 2015