This thing called love
They say time heals all wounds but the scars remain eternal
so I look, look for any sign left by Cupid’s arrow
the scar, the mark, just to confirm this thing called love.
But what is love?
is it this hope that one day she will lay in my arms
or the fear that she is in someone elses.
Is love the way I notice her eyes glimmer at the sound of music
how she stays a second longer when we hug
or how her hair falls perfectly onto her shoulders
like a violin rested before a classical orchestra.
Is love in her laugh, that perfect giggle
enough to acknowledge humor and not long to infer sarcasm
her smile, so radiant like a sky with two rainbows
dimples at the end of the spectrum like pots of gold.
She wears her heart on her sleeve
easily swept off her feet and as easily broken
so I handle it like a new born baby
place it as close to me as possible
listen to it’s beat in sync with mine
like the rhythm of two aliens making love on the moon.
Jupiter love, when Venus meets Mars, the earth rotates under our feet
space meets time and vacuum is no longer a matrix of emptiness.
am I, in happiness
she’s U, in trust
and so I hope that we become in wedlock
take the ring out of suffering and put it on her finger
in sickness and in health
take her as my missing rib
Eve in forever, after the fairytale is over.
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