love is strange in that
it dyes its hair every week
wears too much makeup
but tries to be discreet
it can sneak up on you
or be so obvious its more of a glare
it can be welcomed and expected
or feel more unfair
love is strange in that
i can never tell when its here
im always looking far away
but shockingly love is always near
its in the cracks of the sidewalk
the spoon that which i eat soup
it sits right next to me on the bus
and looks a lot like you
it holds my hand when i cant sleep
and i feel it when you call my name
and even if i've known love before
those now dont feel the same
this love is different
more joy, less pain
i hope your love is the final version
i pray for this love to never change