in a way
is like young love
It demands we see the world
through fogginess and strange, new (muted or bright) colors.
Time exists, but it does not pass
you stare, but you do not process
For both the griever and the lover,
thoughts disconnect themselves in mid-sentence
The body feels wrong and out of sync
until it reunites with its primal source –
its reason for being and breathing.
Try to let the air out of your head, your limbs, your toes, your soul
while you are grieving
or while you are loving
and you will see what I mean
you will understand why poor Juliet
had to die.