They say holding two contradictory thoughts
as your personal belief is the sign of genius
or madness - I think perhaps both.
I need an Einstein to dispel my paradox as he did with light:
is love a stream of particles, bombarding me daily
with new reasons for you to question my devotion
and pellets of my reaffirmations?
So many stops and starts interrupt us, pull us apart;
recurring sacrifices that you demand
to prove the bond is sturdy against misfortune.
Each torment is reconciled by a pluck of the heart-strings
as a separate piece of love.
And yet ... a decade doubled of laying down and rising together
always singing each others songs, sharing breath even in sickness,
cleaving together in the weakest of days, proves that love is a wave:
continuous duration, incapable of being broken into discrete particles.
Let this genius of amour settle the question once and for all:
is love a stream of renewed instances
or is it a steady state of commitment.
We madmen are caught in the cross hairs of the dilemma.
