Poetry Anthology

Love.

"Love."
I say it again...
"Love."
It tastes funny.
The words on my lips, in my mouth.
It's foreign.
"Love."
A strange concept.
What is it like when it's real?
Is it reliable?
Does it hurt less?
Does it lie?
"Love."
We use the words so much and yet we know nothing about it.
Far beyond our depths many of us taint its image.
Its truth.
Its very essence.
"Love."
I don't think I've ever felt it.
Let alone given it right.
I don't know what it is.
But I do know that it's not what you have shown me.

-M