| | “Love Pt.2”
At first
My naivety led me to believe
The only color of love is pink
The color of solidity, security and glee
Where belladonna and razorblades are far off in the distance
And one seems to lose touch with all resistance
Trees remain firm into the ground
And bouquets just happen to constantly be around
But love as it is, is not simply pink
Nor is it black or red or discreet
It is every color, every experience, every turn
Like the sharp random beat of unexpected curves
It is security and insecurity
Hesitance and resistance
And although we lay firm at any moment we may lose our strong stance
our trees become uprooted
our bouquets turn dry
As quickly as our smiles become fluid, as quickly come the cries
And although our roots are ingrained or perhaps uprooted
We knot, we tie and we melt ourselves together
No matter the curves, the cries or the insecurities
The beat of love has a constant ingenuity
To renew or relinquish us
To fill or deprive us
With its satin caresses
or jagged edges
To care for us or simply kill us
To create self awareness or cause us to self-destruct
To construct or tear us down
Love must always stick around
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| | Posted 5/2/2008 2:34 PM - 28 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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