he's
tripping, but not
coerced by gravity;
rather a Molotov cocktail of
endorphins lobbed straight at his
prefrontal cortex.
some find this
distasteful,
some find it
deplorable;
god help me,
I find it adorable.
(it's the only time he'll
admit he loves me)

if love were a color
it would be crimson
crimson like your illuminated cheeks whenever I say your name

love is like a lion cub
deceivingly cute and playful
but in it's depths, deadly

love is a cigarette, lit by a simple flame for enjoyment and pleasure
but slowly releasing toxins into you

if you could touch love,
it would be as rough as a kittens tongue brushing on soft skin

love smells like a newly blossomed rose
that's sweet scent will eventually deteriorate and drift away with the storms

if love were a sound
it would be the prayers that hospital walls consume

if love could speak, it would say:

" caution: falling into me is dangerously easy, while trying to fall out is incredibly hard "

lovely lost lies

love

The burn

of the smoldering

embers of deceit

is eternal.

I was a single grain of coffee
floating in the porcelain mug
that was your heart