He sits with his arm draped around his girl,
Everyone knows they're together,
They all see them,
Together. Happy.

They don't see his eyes wonder,
to the same plain girl,
with scars like snakes on her arms,
Alone. Quite.

He thinks of her,
Longs for her,
wants her,
Morbid. Disgusting.

He wants the girl in his arms,
to be her,
he forgets of the world.
Her. Him. Together.

Everything
Is made up to be deep and difficult:

Like the aura of a lost lover
        In your basin of memories,
Like the lips of a man
        You'd kiss from your tiptoes,
And the love you gave out
        But now have misplaced in the dark.

But our simplicity is
Forgotten:

Like the soft cherry blossom
        From a tree convinced it's spring,
Like the vivacious roasts of coffee beans
        Stirred soft by cream and sugar,
And the instinctive embrace of a friend
        Not caring if you want it.

Why then, can't love be made simple?