I read your missives.
They tell me all across the planet
symbols mingle in shared airstream
meant for me.
I feel your loving.
Though I’ve never met you in the
what do bibles know?
They were written for other days,
other ways of relating.
Love’s not based on seeing,
smelling, touching, tasting
more than survives
neurons’ translated senses.
My love embraces you,
who somehow see me
through impassioned words,
savored safely in recognition.
Love is eternal, but not forever.
Love is awareness in that esoteric space
visualized, realized, as all of essence
rushes dizzily through each private
wired net, lighting here and there
to display brushstrokes of ecstasy.
Taste the pleasure, take a bite.
Treasured freely growing fruits
nourish rich synaptic flow.
Emotion, luscious nectar we each create anew.
Together, synergy expands our reach,