Zenodotus

A Statue of Eros

Who carved love, 

 and placed him by this fountain, 

Thinking he could control 

 such fire

  with water?

—-

What’s on the mind of a younger me? Seems to be the same as the older me. I wrote this one over ten years ago:

Flowing through the ever after

coming from the already was. 

It calls to all our spirits

  promises of happiness. 

But often times of some sudden disturbance, 

  it ends. 

Or is it the ever calmness, 

that causes us to imagine the rocks and rapids?

To ride it is sheer bliss,

 both sealed and ended with a kiss.

Why does the journey end,

 to be repeated, again and again.

To find the one that lasts 

To make sense of all those past. 

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