Their love was like sparkle,
Enclosed in a strong glass jar,
With straps tied around it's head,
To have it saved and delicately spared.
Their eyes empowering the deepest flecks of care,
A gaze so tight, no force could interrept.
Their bodies together, were artistic,
Picturesque and parallel.
They breathed, to inhale the scent of each other's existence.
Their hands intertwining, agonizingly slow,
Feeling the lines and contours of their palms.
They didn't speak much,
A similarity in the flow of thoughts got their minds aquainted.
Their love was like paint.
Colorful,
Always ready to trace towards the dry canvas and fill the blankness.
They didn't love to show,
Their love was the only thing that resonated through their hearts.
Heartwarming, young and inseparable,
Their love was like the smell of books, whether old or new,
But always soothing.
Their love was what true love is drawn of.

               ~kc
                4.1.16