Love is thought needing a subject and predicate lover and object blossom and voyeur dreaming fond connections, often crossing taboos of distance… exchanging scents and feel, the bow, rudder and keel of relationship Yet, that mystery remains the lone whale basking seeming above the ripples the albatross on a still night soaring on unseen current a collapsed sail undisturbed by bleeding sunlight which will I be today? God or His Man?