journal

portrait of a seat

when

 

love finds a seat 

love shares a seat

 

and looks closer, 
together to what cometh 

 

a seat like the stem of any plant is where all the purity lies 

without a seat love fails to exist, it dies

 

once, on an early evening walk trying to catch the soft, warm veiled red undertone sun before it set; I overheard a thing and my curious distracted eyes quickly went searching for where it came from 

"oh dead plants sure don't need water to live again", she said  

"why don't we all look out for what the plant needs before it dies", I asked in response 

i kept walking pretending to be talking to myself 

 

this love looks out for the other 

this love shares a seat for themselves only 

for they’re one 

and one 

they shall remain

 

when 

 

love finds a seat 

love shares a seat 

Others

sea(in)