contemplating the

calculations of love

the equations lovers make

factoring involuntary 

chemical reactions

with practicality 

and what the payout is

love letters and years and poems

and someone better to be

without having to go

inside to purge the 

darkness out

roles to star

that lift us from 

the insignificant

we've been programmed

we have to be

without a story

that lifts us from

the whole

but I don't believe

there's a reason 

in everything

only a meaning that can

be found in all

so when I stop to think

of love that's factored down

with nothing to account

for what the gains might be

I see not the hopelessness

of all that's missing

from the page

only what is clearly there

distilled to all it needs to be

I see only love