What Love Is
Love is the warmth you feel
Next to you in the morning,
When you wake.
Love is the anticipation,
The longing to be home, and in the
Arms of the one you love.
Love is the need to give,
The desire to empty your soul
Of riches, into the
Coffers of your loved one.
Love is the way your muscles tense
And the way the rhythm of your body
Begins, when you notice her scent.
Love is the way time stands still,
And today stretches into forever,
When you and your love
Are together.
Love is the peace that comes with
Falling asleep in her arms.
But for some, love is a dream,
A hopeless ideal, held on to
Out of desperation,
Against the pain of loneliness.
For some, love is the knowledge
That each night will be the same,
Cold and empty, quiet and alone.
For some, love is just a gift,
Held in a pose of supplication,
Reaching out to arms that will
Never return the embrace,
And the knowledge that
The joy of a nibbling kiss
Will never be felt, nor the coy smile
That follows, will ever be seen.
For some, love is what another
Will enjoy, and another will feel,
In the arms you so want to know.
For some, love is an agony.