Life cannot be kept
I want to keep you
as my fantasy
untouched
by the reality
of being human.
I want to keep you
as a mystery
unspoiled
by the predictabilty
of our fallibility.
I want to keep you
as a beauty
unjudged
by the scrutiny
of our inherent delusion.
I want to keep you
as a history
untainted
by the audacity
of wanting to keep.
All we can keep is
the spark we came with
our internal spaceship
on a rough and wild journey
into who we are not
revealing perhaps
eventually
a forgotten
I am.
I want to keep you
yet inherently
unequivocally
the reality is
life cannot be keep.
Not our first breath.
Not our last breath.
Not our deepest breath.
Not our hardest breath.
Not our breath of ecstasy.
Not our breath of longing.
Not our breath of despair.
Not our breath of hope.
As the air belongs to no one,
no one can be kept.
As air is consumed by life
so are we.
Life cannot survive
in captivity.
If I want to keep you,
you must be free
to unfold
naturally
unpredictably
spontaneously.
Life cannot be kept.
Not one single moment.
Not the first breath,
or the last,
nor the sweetest,
or the saddest.
The only moment that we have is now.
All that we can do
is to keep
breathing.