What's love? I tried to understand it by your dictionary but you didn't provide the best possible answer like I expected but yes, yes you helped. You made that breeze pass by, you made it whisper against my skin, and believe me, that one touch was worth it. It was ethereal to me. It caused this summer's heat to become a chill. The subtle chill which bloomed inside and still resides in the most beautiful corner of my being. You don't know who you are but I luckily do. You don't know you're worth living for
in the galaxies of this universe. You're
a book ready to be read by the one
who understands this language. You're the city that awaits being explored by the right one. You're the mist constituting the clouds. You're the treasure that remains to be found by the one who is destined for you. You're the definition of love not defined completely. What is love? Love is you!
YOU ARE READING
Final Throes Of The Unfurling
Poésie"I strived to rise but every rise has a fall, I quit, I quit and that's all." Just a bunch of emotions sucked by the pen and bled on the pages. Can be seen in the dried marks on the pillow, Dark hollows of rapidly blinking eyes, And the corners of...
