What is love?
If I may ask.
Is it butterflies
When they walk past?
Is it warmth that seeps
To your fingertips
When they gift you
With a soft gentle kiss?
Is it the trust
That gives you comfort
Or the peace that they give you
That you only used to have in slumber?
Is it the bond that you share
That can’t ever tear?
Is it dying for the one you live for?
What is love?
If I may ask.

Missing
are the words
to properly send forth
into the beyond,  the abyss,
The netherworld , your soul,
Sweetness,
Be they lost or never thought
of,  absent from the tableau,
any kind remiss,
which mortal souls,
besides the Bard,
have no words for,
are what
I wished to write down,
as your fitting
Eulogy.
But
I have not words
For.
Lie in peace.
Dear.

Worlds collide, intertwining
For a period of time
Until the connection is lost.
Then break apart,
Whirling into separate orbits.

it's all you can do

How well you do it is up to you.