Falling in love again
or so seemed back then,
leaving the boys
and mixing with men,
abandoning the girls
but not grown women.

Feeling it an illness,
a temporary madness,
in love again,
thinking it insane.

Falling in love again,
much as before,
floating on a wild sea,
looking back to shore,
seeing tempests
of old love
lift me up and down,
fearing the next storm
that I might drown.

Falling in love again,
the usual riot of feeling,
raged and torn apart,
leaving me a hurt mind
and broken heart.

Everything I own, I carry with me:
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
It has done me good because of the color of the wheat
But love is not a victory march

Herta Müller
e.e. cummings
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Leonard Cohen