No greater thing than to love and be loved in return? Or to be loved and love in return? Which is greater? Or the ever-elusive (illusive) mutually exclusive love? The ultimate crime of passion. The ultimate crime because if it were to ever occur all the odd ends of untied love and relationships and hearts and happiness and unseen smiles would find completion, and in one instant the world would be complete and without cause for perpetuation. The search would be over. The ruse would be up.
Without the engine of search the globe would stop spinning as if some giant child’s hand had descended with force upon the city in which this sly undoing occurred. Although I don’t think it could ever - if it could ever - take place in a city. There is no such thing as any sort of love in any sort of city.
On a beach or in a paddock surrounded by nothing but more paddocks. Or along some fence where boundary rider meets boundary rider.
It’s something so perfect it would require two perfectly simple people.
Some people think.
Some create.
Some destroy.
Some light fires.
Some build dams.
But some are simple. They can love and that is all.
Love and be love in return. Be loved and love in return. Perfectly simple.
The lovers would have to be simple. Simple and mute.
They could be an unchanging tide and the groanings of all creation.
I could never be this.
There can be no room for self in this love.
The romance of tragedy can not be. There is no romance in this love.
There’s no need for it. Romance is but a means to an end.
As is attraction.
As is conversation.
As is sex.
Remove these and what is your love?
