It is something I will always remember.
The low rumble of her laugh while she’s talking,
The effort to contain
the excitement in her voice,
The sheer joy evident
through her dark-lined eyes,
almost disappearing to a slit.
She’s a work of art, really.
She can smile with her eyes.
A beauty yet to be discovered by many
for it is hidden
behind all the society’s preferences
of what beauty is
or should be.
Better that way for hers is
an unconventional beauty.
The kind that can only be
seen and described by poetry.
The kind that doesn’t have to
be known by the world
But should be.
It is true.
That in places people tend to not look,
There is beauty.

For those who are in love,
Love is a force of nature
Unstoppable and powerful
Pure and perfect.

But for the brokenhearted,
Love creates the illusion
That everything is good
Love is not blind but it does blind
It blinds you into believing
That the rose has no thorns
And that you can cross any ocean
Or survive any storm.
It creates another version of you
That is vulnerable, accepting,
And forgiving
No matter how many times you've been hurt.
It's a diversion, a dead end.
Love is jumping in a cliff, blindfolded,
And expecting for someone to catch you.
An intricately constructed algorithm-
A subtle lie,
For the brokenhearted.

Yet love is unfathomable
It's a powerful force that changes people
Moves even the biggest mountains
Breaks the sturdiest rocks
And melts the coldest glaciers.
Love is both monochrome and
A kaleidoscope of colors.