TRANSMISSION: LOVE

Source, signal, channel—
Do you receive me?

Not yet.
Transmit again.

One pulse.
One spark.
Transmission: love.

I encode a feeling in the language of machines,
A fragile piece of truth inside a frequency.
The heart creates the impulse, the mouth converts the form,
But what I say out loud is never what was born.

Source into transmitter, transmitter into line,
Every word loses blood fighting interference with time.
Fear inside the frequency, pride along the cable,
I send you something real—you receive what you are able.

Not the original, only its translation,
A heartbeat compressed to survive the separation.
You say, “I heard you,” but did you decode
What the silence around it was trying to hold?

I wait for an ACK, some confirmation,
But received doesn’t mean understood at destination.
So I send it again—more clear, more strong, more true:
Same heart, different language, trying to reach you.

Can you hear me?
I’m receiving something.
Do you understand?
The signal is forming.
Do you believe me?
Come closer without fear.
What frequency?
The one that changes me here.

Transmission: love—
Find me underneath the noise.
Transmission: love—
My heart is sending out a voice.

I am here—
I receive—
I’m alive—
I believe—

Transmission: love—
Even when the signal fades,
What has left the heart
Can never be unmade.

Ah-ya-na, ah-ya-na, ah-ya-na.
Send it, hold it, let it go.
Send it, hold it, let it go.
Signal, signal, signal—love.

I’m a crystal radio—no battery, no light,
Just an antenna wire reaching upward through the night.
Every voice across the city passes through my coil,
But my memory keeps tuning for the one beneath the noise.

The capacitor is holding every unexpressed emotion,
The crystal’s fragile surface finds the hidden modulation.
Your wave provides the power—barely more than breath—
But it’s enough to make a quiet signal rise from depth.

I don’t create the current that awakens me;
I borrow it from something sent invisibly.
The more that I am open, the more the noise can wound,
But a heart completely shielded cannot hear a sound.

Stay open, stay grounded,
Find my frequency in the dark around us.

My ground wire is trust.
My antenna is release.
When our two circuits resonate,
The invisible can speak.

Transmission: love—
Find me underneath the noise.
Transmission: love—
My heart is sending out a voice.

I am here—
I receive—
I’m alive—
I believe—

Transmission: love—
Even when the signal fades,
What has left the heart
Can never be unmade.

At the start, a spark—no sentence in transmission,
Only something invisible proving its existence.
A hollow shell of light keeps widening through the black,
Silence at the center—there is no calling it back.

As the sphere grows larger, every fragment becomes thin,
The sender stays behind while the edge keeps traveling.
Nothing moves fast enough to overtake and capture
A word already spoken, a signal sent thereafter.

We carved into the darkness our numbers and our genes,
The position of the sun, a figure of the human being.
But under all the data, the code and calculation:
“We are somewhere listening—acknowledge our location.”

Yet danger isn’t always in the message that arrives;
It grows when fear translates before we recognize.
Is it a gift, a passage, an instrument, a threat?
One word decoded wrongly can make the whole world disconnect.

So show me what means “me.”
I’ll show you what means “you.”
Before demanding answers,
Build a language between two.

What if the sentence were a circle,
With no first word and no last line?
What if, before you started writing,
You held its total shape in mind?

Would knowing how the story ends
Erase the beauty at the start?

Knowing one day it will be silent
Does not invalidate the heart.

If I could see the loss approaching,
Would you refuse the connection?
If I already knew the absence,
Would you cancel the transmission?

No.
Grief does not mean the signal failed.

It is the mark left in the receiver
After the transmitter falls silent.

Then arrive.

I’m already here.

Transmission: love—
Find me underneath the noise.
Transmission: love—
I am changing with your voice.

My heart transmits: I am here!
My heart responds: I receive!
Every impulse says: I’m alive!
Every resonance teaches me!

Transmission: love—
From the first small spark to infinity,
The message changes the heart
That gives it meaning when received.

Can you hear me?
I can hear you.
Can you feel me?
Coming through.
Do you know me?
Not completely.
Will you stay here?
Transmit to me.

Transmission: love—
Find me underneath the noise.
Transmission: love—
My heart is sending out a voice.

The message has arrived.

How do you know?

Because my heart
No longer keeps its old rhythm.

Message received.
Receiver changed.
Transmission: love.