I know there are too many defining moments, despite there seeming to be none!: A poem  

You know, if love were to bind us, 

would we be desirous of it? 

Yet does it set us free(?) 

if we were haplessly flung apart as we are 

to arrive at different points of time and space? 

Would our love grow resolutely stronger 

to retain itself in its original entirety, then? 

Or would it weakly dissipate 

even from the hallways of memory? 

I think we have fashioned it like a lounge 

in a multidimensional structure, shape and form 

So, we find we can live in it, without defining it in a presence 

And we can still reside in it, together, in an absence 

Like mountain ranges on different continents 

with distinctly the same earth and soil… and bedrocks of us! 

I do not question the stonewall between us 

or the bête noires and Quasimodos who live to divest  

love from its sepulcher for their own sustenance and lease 

So that if we found time and space together, we would  

only be fated to be misfortuned Romeos and Juliets; 

But we, instead, be binaries encircling each other, but oblivious to everybody else 

Love replaces a dichotomy of itself by finding its metaphysical niche 

and in revolutions of metempsychosis; making its life and breath possible, even when avuncular 

For I am certain that love is unrestrained in a Universe 

that arose from its source 

And still bears such unique reminders and fragrances of it 

even in its diversities and distances!