maybe love is falling asleep thinking of the one that makes you happy and waking up to the rhythmic exhalation of their hot breath
on your nose

maybe love is waking up too early to watch their silent movements covered by the lull of unconsciousness in order to keep them with you

maybe love is watching you as you dream of them, but
maybe love is a tireless, sleepless being that never laid beside you, or

maybe love is lonely, an empty stone tomb
holding still a body once ablaze with passion

maybe love is gone, perhaps it never there