They were lifeless before they could meet,
like the ingredients in the ocean,
like before the missing part
making an element complete
in such an intent in the motion,
from all the waves mingling and commotions,
like the story of genesis
searching for an additive
to prime its creation's magical potion.
But the wonder
is that in all the comingling of death and birth
in every fire they inflame or smother
they always either put to sleep,
or wake
the sleeping beauty
of
each other.
