through layers of shade, rebirth and the death
are weaving, flow into each others misty ends
hold us in, cuddle us close
reach through every loose space in us fading stretch-distance.
a reminder of forgotten meanings.
if they were a teacher, they would’ve taught us miss
lesson that will never fails
to engineer the essential of a rendezvous
they start where it ends,
and end after, or when, or until..
they don’t let go their hands on you, me, us, until
there comes a day when He makes a whole
of the one after, the one that will and one that comes..
judiantology. 