I read your letters.
They tell me all across the planet
letters mingle in the 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 being.
My love's not based on seeing,
smelling, touching, tasting
more than survives
in my inner senses.
My love is based in you,
who somehow see me
through the visions of my words,
who share my images
so safely in your mind.
Love is eternal, but not forever.
Love is touching in that esoteric sense
visualized, realized, as all reality
running dizzily through each private
neural network, lazily unwinding here and there
to touch in brushstrokes of ecstatic meaning.
Taste the pleasure, take a bite
of the freely offered fruit,
it will nourish through the mind-body synaptic flow.
Emotion is a luscious nectar we each create anew.
Together, synergy makes it all the sweeter.