Who are the meaning-givers,
The men and women who decide on definitions
For the words that frolic through our lives?
I am desperately in search of them,
As the conscience stored
Within this grandeur bulb of mine
Arms itself for a civil war.
My thoughts are struggling
To grasp the realm of a statistical topic
That has become as clear as swamp-water.
The first of its denotations were simple:
Given A, one could not possess B;
Given B, one could not possess A.
The idea was termed
As it spread its wings into other arenas,
From math to science, to literature
And finally to the abode I now question-
Philosophy, humanity, and morality-
It has become blurrier than a foggy, midnight sky.
Is love, the emotion
Given connotative value to mean
A bond between two animals
who seek to spend eternity
(This life, the next, and all the ones that follow),
With each other…
Is love mutually exclusive?
Are we, as human machines, programmed to love one
And only one?
What happens if we love two?
Can the wooed heart go on divided?
The people of mankind
Live in a world where burgeoning love
With affection poured on more than one
Is considered “sluthy” or “whorish” in way.
But what if,
What if we actually do have two great loves
Or three, or four,
Or more than one could possibly count
On the fingers of a single hand?
Is it possible;
And more importantly, is it wrong?
Let me provide you with
A little background
To the stork’s arrival of this question within my mind.
The question first drew breath in life,
Appearing in my cephalized sphere,
When I saw before myself
A love of mine
And its once, effervescent flames
Yield and dwindle
Into indistinguishable, newborn lights
That were not visible from a diminutive distance.
As this was happening,
A new love was budding,
With the two enacting upon one another
In inverse relationships,
I questioned mutually exclusiveness circa love.
Can we love two,
Or does the abominable destruction
Of one love
Ignite the passion needed for another?
As I fruitlessly added more wood to the dying flame
Of the first love,
I questioned my new, second love
And how it stealthily (in the shadows)
Entered my life without earlier query by me.
I let it fill the incoming void of a love
Only recently I was in mourn over.
So is love mutually exclusive?
Or am I free,
without numberical bounds,
when it comes to the distribution of love?
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