There is no God but Love
No love in the singular, the exclusive, the I
Apart from the whole,
That connection is Love.
Love appears between love
Like pages appear between the covers of a book.
From the side the say nothing, inscrutable, obscured.
Yet opening gently, full of meaning, dialogue and joy
Until closed, when only a memory or feeling remains,
The solid pages that can stop a bullet from reaching the heart.
Allowing love to appear again, opening, the story continues.
Love without End.
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