it's young love,
it'll perish tomorrow.
they say that with disgust
but that's the popular belief about loving
know what i think? i think you'll love
but you'll love less as you grow
not to the people you've been growing up with
but, newcomers of your life
you'd have lesser capacity to love them
because to love is to be gentle
to love is to find god
to love is to be able to tolerate them when the days aren't all blue skies and rooftops.
suddenly, you feel you don't have to do these things.
you begin to love less. there's no mature love. just love less intense, love that's transparent as a wet tissue on a butter cake.
YOU ARE READING
PRAGUE-BERLIN TRAIN DEPARTS AT 11
Poetryunder fleurratic mirage, i cast a downwards © ssalvotore