Soul-mate
born same time as I
in a universe expanding to extents infinite
at a moment when constellations were unequivocally exact
(the myriad of unpatternable stars, also exact)
sharing a galaxy wherein all bodies match places
the moon synonymous behind worldly curtains
I know a soul-mate was born
same time as I.
In Asia? Afica? Europe? The Middle East? Australia? The Americas?
Amidst the thousands of millions of souls
with political, cultural, spiritual, social, and familial affiliations
in a world ridden with dualities:
East or West, North or South,
rich or poor, able or disabled,
lucky or misfortuned, triumphant or defeated,
fed or starving, sane or mad,
lifted or crushed, freed or enslaved,
normal or aberrent, honorable or deceitful,
active or idle, fulfilled or empty,
comfortable or homeless, gratified or hopeless,
stunning or ugly, charismatic or dull,
contented or lusting, perverse or chaste,
peaceful or violent, loved or alone,
or just common,
somewhere, within all of them,
a soul-mate was born.
I know
they are distanced
by the space between synapsis
20-40 nano-meters for one microcosm,
to connect the other,
20-40 nano-meters separating a
macro-cosmic reunion,
among three hundred thousand grey matter clusters
each with a billion synaptic pairs.
Sweet are they:
those omniscient eyes
that let you cry
with patience, with selfless
embrace
tendering
charm.
They are near,
just around a catalytic corner
figurative and figmentive.
Right now,
I can hear them.
Their voice
is
me.
born same time as I
in a universe expanding to extents infinite
at a moment when constellations were unequivocally exact
(the myriad of unpatternable stars, also exact)
sharing a galaxy wherein all bodies match places
the moon synonymous behind worldly curtains
I know a soul-mate was born
same time as I.
In Asia? Afica? Europe? The Middle East? Australia? The Americas?
Amidst the thousands of millions of souls
with political, cultural, spiritual, social, and familial affiliations
in a world ridden with dualities:
East or West, North or South,
rich or poor, able or disabled,
lucky or misfortuned, triumphant or defeated,
fed or starving, sane or mad,
lifted or crushed, freed or enslaved,
normal or aberrent, honorable or deceitful,
active or idle, fulfilled or empty,
comfortable or homeless, gratified or hopeless,
stunning or ugly, charismatic or dull,
contented or lusting, perverse or chaste,
peaceful or violent, loved or alone,
or just common,
somewhere, within all of them,
a soul-mate was born.
I know
they are distanced
by the space between synapsis
20-40 nano-meters for one microcosm,
to connect the other,
20-40 nano-meters separating a
macro-cosmic reunion,
among three hundred thousand grey matter clusters
each with a billion synaptic pairs.
Sweet are they:
those omniscient eyes
that let you cry
with patience, with selfless
embrace
tendering
charm.
They are near,
just around a catalytic corner
figurative and figmentive.
Right now,
I can hear them.
Their voice
is
me.