A couple meets again, we don't know when or where. The embrace is soft and given to each other in total surrender. The background is as endless as the embrace, perhaps eternal. The embrace, like their bodies, and the light on them, is soft, clean and sincere.
If there is life after death, this could be the rendezvous of lovers in the afterlife, but even in life, the passage of time suspends itself when we recover contact with someone we love, or just when we actually..'love'. In a sense, then, in the language of love, life and death are one and the same, perhaps continuations of each other. There is no end.
Love is not red, it's not fire, Love is not the strong, nearly chaotic gallop of an untamed heart. Such is the description of lust. True love is calm and colorless, timeless and transcending distance. Love is not more strenuous nor noisier than a whisper or quiet breathing.
Wherever they are, these two, are no longer two.
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