Love? What is love. Love is chords going together, mixing in perfect harmony. Love is pink and oranges rising together. Love is brushing each others hair after the shower. Love is reaching to each other. Love is waking up next to each other each morning, locking eyes while basked in warm sunlight.
Love is soft blankets. Love is the smell of freshly baked bread. Its tendrils of clouds floating with each other in the atmosphere. Warm fluffy clouds over a orange and yellow backdrop, as it fades to a dark and starry sky. It's late nights in treehouses. Its music that you both enjoy.
Love is being joined together in harmony. Love is when your conjoined together at the soul, all your wires in tune. The sound of a slightly out of tune acoustic guitar, but to where its comfortable. Its dancing together in your bedroom, swaying in your own rhythm. Its writing your own poems and singing your own songs.
Love is soft pencil sketches on new paper. It's a pale blue sky. Hearing the owls in the morning. Its joy. It's the colour of your hazelish green eyes. Your graceful aura, the soft colours that call to me. Love is the art you make. Love is car rides at night. Love is sharing a couch when we're both too tired to go to bed. Its walking in sync with each other.
Holding hands and not noticing. It's the sun rising and feeling warmth spread through my veins. It's my memories swimming through my blood and powering my being. Its crystal balls that show a future I'm happy with.
Love is your cupid shaped lips, a soft pink. It's being together in a locked embrace under the moons grey shadow. Love its your shadow. Love is seeing you happy on your every day regular. It's being on the open road, blasting music without a care. It's being open with each other.
It's watching cars go by. Love is the moon in a perfect crescent. It's your favorite drink. It's the beautiful everspirling madness you present, it's your joyful laughter. Love is early autumn. The fresh feeling of being clean. The look of spring water, butterflies passing in a group.
Love is your brown hair. It's the feeling of your palm against mine. It creates a spark that turns into a flame deep inside my ribcage, and it's ever so calming. Love is drumming and playing guitar, being interested in what you are. Its fresh piercings and moving forward of what you desire to be. Looking in the mirror and not liking what you see, but when you look into their eyes. When you look and all you see is a while of warm browns shining back at you, and it shows you that you are loved. Love is waking up to notifications.
Love is reading your notifications when I wake up late. Love is late night calls. Love is your soft voice, which swells my heart with warmth and joy. You have the beautiful face of an angel. If I fell apart at the core, love could empower me to stand still, healing. Love is smiling like a moron at your messages. Love is feeling weak in the knees when seeing you.
Fondness and confessing is the hardest part, for what am I supposed to see? I'd never want to be with anyone else, you have a grip on my heart.
Love is how I fall for you more and more everyday. You make me feel pinks and yellows in my mind. Love is a beautiful sweltering of an angels chorus.
Love is matching profile pictures and status. Our love is young love, always wanting to be with each other. I want to hold your hand, and feel your warmth. I want to share mine with you, to hold you close on a rainy day. And love, you may never find this but if you do.. I hope you love me too.
Love is us. Love is you, my dear.
