Being in love: an Anthology

What is being in love?
There are no denotations,
Or connotations, or declarations.
It can’t be described in phrases,
Or poetry, or quotations.
It’s dancing in the rain
It’s splashing in muddy puddles
Not caring whether you’ll get sick.
You live for the laughter
And the warmth of the fire after.

It’s talking for hours
As daylight turns to night.
It’s finishing each other’s sentences.
It’s looks that mean a thousand tongues.
It’s contentment in silence.
Knowing no magnitude of distance,
Of time, of proximity
Can break the thread
That binds two hearts.

It’s like coming home.
It’s wanting to be the first,
The last, the universal center.
It’s feeling like the one,
The only, the quintessential core
It’s like being in a crowded room
But feeling nothing and no one else exists.
Turn a blind eye to the watchful.
Turn a deaf ear to the doubtful.
Throw caution into the wind.

It’s like being high
But not on drugs.
It’s being in heaven
And then falling,
Falling and falling again.
And each time,
Love cushions your fall…