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It didn’t happen like in a poem. It wasn’t pretty Or whimsical Or like autumn leaves. It didn’t happen like the chorus of your favorite song. It didn’t make us dance Or build up tears behind our eyes Or fill us with constant laughter. It wasn’t like what they made us expect. It wasn’t sunlight Or starlight Or anything else exceptionally bright. It just was. We just were. Warm, safe, wonderful- Even after the butterflies faded. Long nights, after long days Growing, together. It wasn’t what we thought, but it was right. It was love as it should be, And it was divine.
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
Us.
It didn’t happen like in a poem. It wasn’t pretty Or whimsical Or like autumn leaves. It didn’t happen like the chorus of your favorite song. It didn’t make us dance Or build up tears behind our eyes Or fill us with constant laughter. It wasn’t like what they made us expect. It wasn’t sunlight Or starlight Or anything else exceptionally bright. It just was. We just were. Warm, safe, wonderful- Even after the butterflies faded. Long nights, after long days Growing, together. It wasn’t what we thought, but it was right. It was love as it should be, And it was divine.
Copyright October, 2015
miranda-eckert
Written by
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
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