I am beginning to realise that love,
love isn't necessarily like that carnival
you find yourself tumbling into
where the bright colours and fumbling
anticipation make you feel like
the lone tightrope walker dancing
on a high-wire.

No.

I am beginning to realise that love,
love is like the surprise of the old, bare magnolia
tree you've never quite noticed un
-til one day rounding a corner
you look up to see that it has (pinkly) burst into
song. And you soon find yourself
like a chorus of birds, thrilling
to the melody
of its blooming.