you insist the dictum of love is religion
but not in the cosmic stage of my time
where even the contours of snowflakes
see what I mean it, nonchalantly proved
and amused in games of the spirits felt
and used in the metaphors of each day
and constantly devised in descriptions
portrayed by the agnostic soul of mine
fine demonized in beauty by your mind
characterized in a deeper love aphorism
met not just in lucid dreams but in truth

©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi
Shura │ Moonlight Breakfast │ Lauv │ King Charles