or is it all the same

how does one so gracefully intertwine love and hate

as if it was an indistinguishable entity ever shifting through fluid states

an amoeba

elusive

esoteric

passion, not a substance but an undefined thing

it might not even exist if not on some quantum microscopic level where i live,

where i have always lived

among the threads of the underworld

tearing through realities

deciphering the dead languages that

may suggest an inclination of truth

we are stuck inside of a perpetual mirage

thirsting in the driest desert

believing we have finally reached water

when there is nothing but sand