Can we call
What we feel
For this melange
Of odd-shaped tubes and angles
Machined components
And spider’s webs spun in silver steel
Love?
An asymmetric passion:
Always together
But no shared laughter, tedium or pain;
Enduring the same wild weather
Yet it knows no cold or drop of sweat;
And passing through
Those freezing instants
When time slows and life shrinks
To fractured bits of inches
And scattered shards of seconds
It alone is left untouched
By fear, and all that follows.
But still
This bloodless, wordless better half
Makes us greater than ourselves;
Transports us back to lighter, swifter days,
Revives old glories
Banishes our ghosts
And pries time’s grasping fingers
From our limbs and hearts.
And if to be as one
Wanting nothing more
Content and all complete
Is love
Then I have found a form of it
And will go with it
To the end.
Gonecycling (again) 