A left and a right.
Left: forlorn, long gone.
Right: truth, the real.
A love and
anything else.
A buddha doesn’t not move.
But he moves in no way.
Not in any direction away
but ever towards himself.
His time falls into one.
And love with left and right.
All at once.
Feeling synthetic emotion.
baselfasel 
Feeling a synthetic kind of love