"I love you."
What is love, anyway?
Is it the feeling of slight electricity that lovers have when they trade their glances?
Or is it how I find it amusing when I see your plump cheeks every time you eat?
What is love, exactly?
Is it the pleasing feeling after you reach your cloud nine?
Or is it how your voice soothes me when I feel less?
How do I know if I'm in love?
Is it when I realized that I put an adequate amount of attention to you to notice the presence of that little mole on your left cheek?
Or is it how I can picture myself in ten years with you, slow dancing to Eric Benét in a French-style living room, smiling and giggling, probably for having too much wine?
What is love, anyway?
YOU ARE READING
Breaking Nacre
Poetry"I was a time bomb you said, Ticking, destruction awaits as I keep moving." Copyright © 2021 by Giasemine S.
