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.