It is as though you are god’s fool and I am your babbling
If I were to reject you I would reject myself as well
We are like molecules in a stream of water, falling over a waterfall,
clinging together once more at the bottom
In the space of a moment when we are apart
then I, for one, have lost my identity
and all of my longing is for a quiet pool
at the bottom of time where, once again
we have resumed
the ever-so-complementary-amorphous shape of our oneness.