i let myself freefall
into your arms
into the shape of the love we have created
our emotional hammock

safe inside the fabric of our
love-woven membrane

everytime we kiss
share songs and films
hike mountains and beaches
our joined presence gains form

our affections
captured in a structure
visceral sculpting
of our love into space

if we cling to what we used to be
it will burn our soul
we will get hurt
unlesstere is absolute trust
then we will become one

our solar systems coalesced
softly surrendered into itself
formed a nebulous cloud
a gentle meeting of gas and dust
but If we amalgamate a
arctic persian compassionate



“Some songs will make you stand up and dance, while others will make you sit down and contemplate life.” “Freefall,” for example, is a poignant love song, with lyrics like : If we cling to what we used to be / It will burn our soul / We will get hurt / Unless there is absolute trust / Then we will become one.


The dreamy strings of “Freefall,” recorded at an Icelandic church, remind Björk of Sigmund Freud smoking a pipe in the Alps. “It’s not a coincidence that Western civilization discovered psychology at the same time that string quartets became huge,” she said. “People who are in string quartets for, like, 30 years together [say] it’s like a marriage of four. It’s human communication in the most intense form, both positive and negative.”
That sense of almost-uncomfortable closeness complements Björk’s wish to “amalgamate” with another person—a long-running desire in her music. “Sometimes, when people think I’m convincing someone to merge [in a song], I’m actually talking to myself,” she said. “I’m saying, ‘Be more open.’” Trying to bond, she said, “really is the theme of our life, isn’t it ?”

The Atlantic