The lucky ones that have fallen in love will understand.

Love isn't fate,
it's chance.
So when you have that chance
dont waste a minute taking a
second glance.
Love is laying
in a twin size bed,
pouring sweat.
His smells like vanilla,
mine smells like death.
Love is standing
in front of a mirror,
shaving together
and admiring
the way his round face
is shaped.
Love is laughing
at the silly faces
that only he can make.
Love is swinging
beside him and momentarily
forgetting the mistakes
we both made.
Love is how
he knew something
was wrong just by
a simple sigh.
Love is the
soft kiss he'd
give while between
my thighs.
Love is when
he'd f**k me
so hard i'd fall
off the bed.
Love is being
comfortable with him
and his curly head.
Love is sunshine
that would illuminate
our intertwined hands.
Love is listening
when he tells me to go slower.
(I'll remember this even
when i'm much older.)
Love is still
waking up and reaching over
only to find an empty space,
even all these years later.
Love is knowing
the difference between
a poem and
just
remembering.