The Unnamed Shape of love by maria walton

The Unnamed Shape of Love 

To place a name on This

would be like yoking the divine,

lashing spirit to a wooden post,

or veiling the luminous beauty

of a pure and open heart—

Let us let it be 

the mystery,

as we are one in the same,

mirrored particles floating through space,

immeasurable in our freedom—

shackled by our own imposed frame

that breaks the magic spell.

Let us let it be

the amorphous organic shape

that it wants to be,—

and if we call it anything,

let us simply, 

and only,

call it,—


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