Sometimes I wonder
how the unconditional love that we promised,
is centered between our legs,
its exclusiveness between him and her, her and him,
the purity of our body,
and the act that is just between thee.
sometimes I wonder,
what do you call a mistake,
the expression of emotions on the submission of it.
Who is the victim, you, me or him,
Who is the culprit?
I, you or the others?
Or is it easy to blame the time,
that little pinch of time that
we could not be mindful of or the one
when we were overtly mindful?
What is love?
The one we felt yesterday
when we were far yet close
or the one that we are living today
close yet far.
Sometimes I wonder how we are similar yet different
than Shakespeare's Romeo Juliet.
Alive in our bodies,
but dead in our thoughts.
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