The fury of time engulfs me
Gazing once more on its unabstracted velocity
Realize that time has no objective or subjective realization
Unexpectantly there is a shift of air that breezes about me
Like cool morning mist I allow it to cover me without expectation
A consequence of exuberation possesses my being
Like that of a vanquished dream
I crave its succulent softness
It surrounds me and hovers
Its pulse evaporating in my mind
Then in ecstatic euphoria pearlesque ribbons hit the wall
Melt on my hand dripping like silken spangles
Filling my room with antiquated resolution

he, perched upon,
the swing's
seat.
like
a little bird, just,
waiting,
waiting,
for some-one to,
give him a gentle push.

and then he could arc,
back and forth,
by himself,
and
fly up into the clouds.
laughing in joyful
fear,
and exuberation.

but,
until then, he perched,
waiting,
waiting.
dreaming, of  unfettered
flight.

What is love?

Love causes hate. Love ignites us to discriminate between dream and real. Make us feel like we ain’t worth ****. Throw a fit. Get lit.

Love is resentful. Eventful. You fight only to make up but live through threat of break-up. You fight for love and love to fight. It helps everything feel right. Is that love? Don’t ask me. I can’t judge you and your story. But I can dream and I can feel.

What is love?

I ask, what isnt? Is it just me? Can it be, that my family is marching towards eternity while I evade and fade into the distance? Did I miss it? Am I uplifted?

My mind wanders while my head ponders and the thought never leaves.

You asked what is love? I said, what isn’t? It’s a tree in the distance. It’s a wedding ring on clearance. It’s big. It’s small; makes us fall head over heels. Makes us feel what’s real. Makes you think a different way. Makes you stay who you are. Not far from love but far from fear. What is love, my dear? Love is shared. Love is felt deeply, though the path treads steeply.

No rectification is beyond justification. If you feel exuberation, manipulation is beyond contemplation.

You get it?

You asked What is love? I told you what isn’t. Though underneath you, you never knew. The feelings felt were unexplainably true.

You asked What is love? You already knew. What, is love.