The fleeting spirit
The fleeting spirit of our love
is you and me and something else between
that never can be specified nor gratified
but moves us on incessantly on cosmic winds
blown everywhere but to ourselves,
since this untouchability is the right essence,
unidentifiable, of our love
more precious than we ever can imagine
or get any relative idea of ourselves,
since love belongs to us to merely escape us,
leaving us enigmas only that can not be solved,
but something else between, a mutual understandability
of things that no one else can get a distant hang of,
miracles and powers unexplainable
and constantly astounding us with new expressions and results.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-11-04 at 14:20
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