but love
is undefined,
a word so simple yet
complex. If only it could be
easy.
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but love
is undefined,
a word so simple yet
complex. If only it could be
easy.
Easy
love is that which
we feel for puppies and
our kids. Much harder to love a
"grown-up".
grown up
and suddenly
full of disappointment.
Childish expectations now seem
foolish.
foolish
I suppose, is
how we imagine we
are seen by others. But they too
are fools.
are fools
the ones that know
the way it is and do
it anyway, untouched by their
knowledge?
Knowledge
is only as
good as the results of
its wielding. Do not judge it by
its book.
its book
turn each page, read
a book useless unless
someone delves into secrets
therein
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...mKane/read.gif
therein
any book lies
what we read into it
We are each the authors of our
own book
own book
absorb contents
spill out what you recall
forget most of what you just learned
collapse
collapse
into my arms
I'll hold you there until
your strength returns. Take what you need
from me
from me
or for me, who
can truly tell? Lovers
are those who receive when they think
they give
they give
something, a word,
a kiss, a touch of breath
on waiting skin, a moment in
eternity
eternity
in an hour, wrote
Blake, and yet how many
eternities, kisses, hours can
we stand?
we stand
opposed in time
oceans apart unclear
as to the possibilities.
What next?
we stand
when united,
while divided we fall--
and who can say if we e'er care
at all?