The soldier twists a limb,
All seasons end on a whim,
Never a day for a fallen petal
Too soon for a fallen leaf.

The perfection of love
Resides in completion.
A strategy
Of chaotic logic.
A straight line
With curves of arms that wrap
Around that which remains standing.

A life,
A rising orchid,
A capturing of stillness,
Of captivation
In beauty’s remembrance.
A face
That does not disperse.

A memory,
A fire,
A purity,
Love wins over darkness,
Remaining as spark after spark.

We love
Because we cannot die,
Because we cannot let go,
Because we thirst
From all the drinking water of an ocean.

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