all along, i suspected but did not hope
that there was no one thing we shared
Our passions such as they were
striving away from the hard mirror
appearing identical, opposite-handed
i knew you were too like me to be true.
we cannot talk of Our love. as a thing
We're monsters of our own longings that
we never set loose
for each creature, a certain
amount of hope is allotted.
for infinite creatures, spread across the universe
and reproducing themselves, soft and hard
pulling it out of the ambient energy
of the soul
for us, for my, my
hope stood faint
and held on to
This was the result of a raw-nerve nodeshell challenge by so-and-so.