To be wrapped up in this thing called Love.
To be consumed in all that it represents.
To have it next to you like skin.
To be lost in it until you only answer to the name Love.
To be able to only see through Love’s eyes,
Or speak with Love’s mouth,
Or hear with Love’s ears,
Or smell with Love’s nose.
To be able to be Love.
To be able to give Love
To be able to receive Love.
To be wrapped up in this thing called Love
To feel Love around you so tight that your breath becomes labored whispers.
To feel Love smothering you with it’s good intentions.
To find yourself again but people still only know you as Love.
But those are your tears in Love’s eyes.
Love has no need to cry.
Your harsh words coming from Love’s mouth.
Love has no need to curse.
You hear horrible sounds through Love’s ears.
You never knew you could scream that loud.
You can smell reality with Love’s nose.
Everything smells rosy to Love.
But you are Love.
You must give Love.
You must receive Love.
You must be able to be Loved.
Doesn’t matter how much it hurts.
Doesn’t matter what you say.
Love, You are wrapped up in this thing called “Love.”