It only makes sense
When we stop trying
To make it make sense
Rest in undressed being
Remembering to remember
It and you have never been apart
Until only what-really-matters remains
Already perfectly dressed for the part
Too real to possess meaning
And the lovers again die
Into a love beyond imagination
A love older than any creation
A love too real to lie
A love that is its own sun
Crying out as one:
Oh God God O God