Not all kinds of love are permanent.
Some are as fleeting as cloud shade.
Or as momentary as passing glances.

Not all kinds of love are joyful.
You may hear crying at night.
Most will see bruises and hard stares.

Not all kinds of love are willing.
Others have yet to pack their things.
Excuses are always kept on hand.

Not all kinds of love are sweet.
Tenderness will be asked for.
Time a luxury for few.

But our kind of love is different.
It is not something I can put in the formula of nots and adjectives.
It just is.
It's love.