There are bits of me hidden from myself.
I’m sure you’ve noticed them too;
but you don’t mind it.
And now your mystery is woven into mine.
I like that very much.
Do you mind the strangeness?
Odd… shouldn’t I be bothered by this?
And even more oddly, I don’t think I care,
about those things we can’t see yet.
And all that is regular, reasonable,
rational,
fades into nothing
against Love’s chaos.