Love as Dark Matter

The ever present enigma of swirling masses twists unforgivingly through the emptiness of the verse, sucking away meaning within the limits of its event horizon. Once inside the borderland, what happens to the self disciplined existence of the present if laws are shattered beyond repair? Spiraling into a chaos of disbelief along with every physical fiber condensing into a singularity of immense proportions and imagination causes enchanting equations of improbability of which dreams are barely conceived. A pulse quickens as the mind numbs when thinking of such unrealistic circumstances, even when the very enigma traverses the expanses of the next frontier.

Isn’t it here now? Aren’t we caught in the hole sucking away all laws already? Love has its entangling web stretching into and out of each soul in indeterminate forms. If caught, the subject of love’s illusion shades every aspect surrounding the victim’s life. All fairness diminishes into the chasm and existence sits back to the emotions swirling around the imaginary boundary between the two spirits caught by the inexplicable magnitude drawing them together; and may the powers that be forbid such numbers to grow beyond a duality. Matter and gravity condensing into a single point presupposing attraction of adoration breaks conditions imposed by the regulations of life, creating an event horizon of peril.

Once created, the brink of love lays seeds forevermore even if disillusionment wipes the slate clear of all colors. The pulse still strengthens when the object is mentioned. The mind still feels when a name is realized. The stomach fills with giddiness when their fragrance appears out of no-where. No amount of hatred overturns what once controlled the essence of a heart’s content. The pull of the hole can never be broken and delicate balances exist ever after --

Leaving even the strongest of will torn asunder by the violent intricacies of love. Herein does my world lie. The shades of day transcending to night, or the colorful dawn of the early morn, bewilder the progression of day to day affairs when others interpose personalities along the way. Several have I encountered, and their vortexes have begun the undeniable draw upon the strings already spoken for. I cannot deny the beauty of that peril, nor the adventurous intrigue they offer even when I cannot answer their unveiled aspirations; of which they suppose are hidden well enough. To what do I give reason for the attraction felt from me to their inner essence? Perhaps that is the question that should be answered, for the black hole I feel must reciprocate in some manner toward their draw, as black matter inevitably balances itself in a verse of indeterminate size.

And thus, I’m left unanswered. The feeling of falling even when claimed persists despite my recollection of the undeniable, if I were attempting to deny. I swirl in a delicate dance of shadows in a universe of light, skirting the event horizons of love’s cunning intent.