If love is relative, like space and time,
Governed by constant universal laws,
Maximum speed finite, fleeting as gauze,
In spite of relative motion or rhyme—
Even if, nature loathes a paradigm:
Rotating bodies can distort, can cause
The spacetime around them to drag, to pause—
All this theoretical, though sublime.
If love is infinite, like change and light,
Only with the universe we’d dwindle
As candle-smoke self-starves at end of night
And life is spun, wound, cut from one spindle.
Like watches, I’d synchronize our hearts two,
If there were more than one, in me and you.