And somewhere

And to lay at least once
in the arms of a beautiful woman

And Neruda’s Saddest lines
are the ladders to the root of every soul

And all hearts can connect in song
Lungs open, burnt by Sun

And diseased love stays inside cells
atrophied by memory

And sometimes time trips over itself
forcing fates to renegotiate

And then once in a while
there must be Fight

And somewhere, at least once a day
there is utter joy