Love is a gift.
Not a deal.
Nor a mild fit
Of oxytocin,
Pumping through
your veins.
Love is a right
bestowed.
It is the liberty
to cherish a moment.
To explore,
humanity and faraway places
we dare not venture
with our feet.
Love is a reward
given; not bestowed
to many, sadly.
It is a decision
To touch oneself
and others.
Love might be
For a time or forever.
Love is sacrifice
To withhold
one’s throne.
To embrace
the shame of mankind.
Love is not
just a feeling.
Nor precisive action only, but what you do carelessly for those you adore.
Love is a stone,
Felt in weight
Received and given,
Lightly as a feather,
Heavily like a reprover.
