what is love?
oh to love, a powerful thing.
is it the waves against rocks on a foggy beach morning?
the sun setting, just so the moon can be seen by the world?
or is it me?
is it, when i wake up choosing to romanticize the small things, as the shoes on my feet, or the coffee in my hand?
is it my hobbies that make me feel...
not-so-bland?
is it my smile that chooses to give another happiness in the darkest of days, bright and shining, as well as being dark and mischievous, in the most curious of ways?
is it my hand to the water, on that foggy beach morning, or my skin on that night of the moon being seen?
maybe it is love, that is not love.
so i ask again, with a new meaning....
what is love?
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poetry"i believe we have some power over who we love, it isn't something that just happens to a person." "i think the poets might disagree." "well, i'm not a poet, I'm just a woman." also know as, a series of my meaningful, meaningless, messages. that I w...
