It doesn’t have to be a ballad;
this highway of connected thoughts that burns its way
into the heart,
nor an eternity of collating the moon and stars
when in company of the other—
a pinch of salt in an otherwise bland diet,
stay a little longer
you never know who you might save—
it possesses dominion over man’s attempt to establish
sense.
Unspoken letters that write themselves on lips,
it’s a contradiction of sorts– at times relief, at times
indescribable ache,
and though
I am learning its deep, dark, almost decadent convention;
I can’t help but feel I have belonged to you since
the beginning of time;
a thousand realities rolled into one perfect vagary— love.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Day Twelve ~ Fireblossom Friday: Love

Posted for “Play It Again” @ Real Toads

Posted for the Writers’ Pantry @ Poets and Storytellers United