What is love?
Is it the feeling that leaves you afraid of your thoughts,
Carrying you beneath and beyond your imagination?
Is it the shiver that runs through you when his name is whispered,
The flicker of warmth that rises with every notification ring,
Thinking—maybe this is his message?
What is love?
Is it that feeling of home
That comes with him only?
Is it when all your thoughts are about him—
His breath, his kiss, his touch?
What is love?
Is it this idea
Planted in us through novelas,
That it must be romantic dinners,
And long walks, holding hands
Like swans that have mated for life?
What is love?
Is it this that I am feeling,
Or just ecstasy—
A fantasy of my dreams that may never come to life?
Perhaps it will rest within me, quietly,
Until another name awakens it again,
And my imagination blooms once more.