Love doesn't rhyme;
the rules imposed,
the frames we chose,
do not apply,
although we try
to tame its flow
we sink below,
we seek
salvation by escape;
we bravely dove
but there's the threat
of drowning

the rhythm
and the melody
it's giving us,
all random...
but do we
lose ourselves
to find them,
or is it them
we lose
to find ourselves,
I cannot help
but wonder...