On Death And Transcendence

That’s Love

0118.2025

“But I’m alive,” she says.

I’m made of love, and I’m about it.

It runs through me, then is me.

The love is all, it makes, it burns.

The thing that love becomes

Too much to hold, it overflows -

And when it spills, it blooms.

It changes all, it makes it new.

m.c.f.