the world will try to sew together
the definition of love
with words that fall apart
when tested by time,
it will erode,
though,
as it always does,
because isn't love fragile
when held by temporary hands?
doesn't love break easily at the sound
of a siren's call?
and ever so complacent
to the demands of the flesh?
is the love that we've created on
an already troubled land
only troubled further when the sand
crumbles at our feet?
and our manufactured definition
will die and come alive,
and die,
and come alive,
coming alive but
only dying when it
matters the most.
but i found pure love when
i looked at the stars,
and traced the veins on my arms,
and listened silently in the dark,
oh,
we've had our futile attempts
to distinguish when love begins
and love ends,
but love has always existed,
now,
and even then.
love is the breath
in our lungs,
and with the breath in my lungs,
i say,
i don't know the correct
definition of love,
but i know that i love you
in every way that exists.
YOU ARE READING
love stains
Poesía[ because i'll never be done loving you you have stained me through and through ] my poem collection about love after all, love never fails
