It is metaphysical:
simultaneously cultural and counter-cultural.

The one true umbilical cord between our spiritual and physical selves.

Somehow, it withstands.
And oddly, it grows
despite our imperfect hands and clandestine beliefs.

It’s almost as if we
ourselves
are love.

We are not love personified.
We are love itself.

Period.

It is our identity. It is our nature –
It is not the air we breathe.
It is our nose.

It is not the lips we kiss.
It is our own very lips.

It is the opposite of external.
It is the deeper than intrinsic-
and more pure than our conception.

Despite all the things we do that project the opposite,
it survives us
and survives in us.