The difference between staring at the ocean from behind a window frame
and looking into his eyes of deep from the foamy shoreline, feet naked;
the difference between the sky seen in an astronomy software display
and the summer dome where thousands of millions of glimmering stars shine;
the difference between the glimpse of an image of a mountain snowy trail
and the whiplashing wind when it pairs like a bourdon the shoes rhythm
while you get step after step closer to the crown of fiery rocky peaks.
The difference between a cd and a concert,
between drop and hammering rain,
between a fob and a chain.
The difference between the memory of a voice
and that voice itself,
between a verse found once on a screen
and an old dusty book on an old dusty shelf.
The difference between morning and night,
wheel and plough,
aliveness and life,
simple air and heady oxygen,
a thunderclap and the Jupiter's big red storm.
Or a love and our Love.