unrequited love

once i fell in love
with a mirage
a reflection
so beautiful
she held me in awe

you see,
life moves on
and she is not a statue
or a painting
to be admired

she is a woman,
a person.
and her neck is as graceful as an alabaster cliff
and her hair falls in spinning rivulets
and she moves like a mixture of summer and laughter
and i’m sure there are angels that follow her everywhere she goes

so i can’t look at her
she’s too miraculous
too amazing

and i’m not sure it’s really love
but it’s something like it

what is love?

love is love
really
it can be so many different things

love can be
  • work
  • peace
  • anger
  • weakness
  • selfish
  • caring
  • less
  • flight
  • wealth
  • sharing
  • childhood
  • a mystery
  • longing

 
It’s just never the same. it keeps moving and flying and changing like some magical kaleidoscope of insanity, or a mystical calliope of comfort and depression. The tune plays for one and then for another. The magical creatures go round and round, and up and down.

And we all pay our token, or remain content to watch from the sidelines, because we don’t want to be the kid who ate too many deep fried twinkies and blew chunks all over the magical, mystical sidewalk of love.

secrets

what is more exciting?

the possibility of shattering our love,
or the magic of watching it shatter and disappear
only to reform as if by magic
in some new way

leaves on trees

if each leaf
was a moment
and each breeze
was our love

our lives would rattle in the summer
and scatter in the autumn
then finally rest at peace in the icy winter
only to rebloom again when the warmth of spring returns