Before I fell in love.
What I Think About When I Think About Love
After a long pause,
I looked into his eyes
questioning this thing we've been taught to know as
'love'.
A deep, tender feeling of affection,
an intense desire,
an emotional attachment,
an ever lasting frustration to
conquer one another
through adoration and admiration.
Hoping to be faithful and loyal,
we are enamored with the consistency
of falling asleep in each others arms
and waking up a tangled mess of
sheets and legs,
satisfied with the voids no longer empty
we could not have filled alone.
Relying on our bodies to keep warm,
dependent on our skin to sooth restless concerns,
surviving everyday
through beating hearts,
steady breaths
and tenacious thoughts of one another.
Compulsively fixating on
his mouth, and my lips,
his laugh and my smile.
Captivated by habitual routines
performed out of excessive need
to be conquered,
to be adored,
to just feel love at its purest,
pretending to be pure
but still wondering
what we could be missing.
This, love is no longer just a mere liking to another,
but a sick arrangement between two people
drawn together in order to continue their own existence.
He looked at me and said,
“I love you”,
and surely, I will reply,
“I love you, too”.
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