What is love?

I guess it's like the feeling of soft grass and earth on your feet
With the buzzing of bees and the songs of birds,
The flowers in bloom, painting places in colorful tones.
The time when the world awakens from death, It breaths life back to things, in the midst of the breeze of spring.


I reckon it is to feel the warmth of the sun on the tip of your skin, shining a great hue of yellow.
It symbolising the adventurous and daring nature of youth
The time of waking up into infinite potential,
I dare say tends to bring out in people the summer fun.


Maybe it's like the changing of leaves,
When they brown and fall of trees,
Painting the whole place orange
And it, marking the transformation into something new,
The fall marks life anew.


Or perhaps,
The time when all things sit still,
When all lies dormant
Winter to people seems harsh, frigid and cold
But people seem to forget,
For all things if to start over, must first end
And In winter lies the beginning of things, in it lies the promise of spring

when a poet falls in love with you
you can never die
they will notice the way
you rub your palms and look down
when someone is angry at you
and the way you smirk
as you pull away from a kiss

they will notice how you can't sleep
without your body touching someone else's
how you never crease any pages of books
and how you close your eyes when you dance in your kitchen
with your record player on

they will find all of the words
that they see you as
and turn them into something beautiful

people say you die twice
once when you stop breathing
and when someone says your name
for the last time

if you fall in love with a poet
they will never stop
mentioning your name
you will be alive
for eternity

How wise of you
To go at your
Own pace

To leave their lane
And reject their
Silly race...

-growth is a process