Love is when you can hold her and let the tears flow
when speaking does not make you feel like a ghost
Love is not scarred by false schemes or sorrow
until it becomes old and the bones become brittle
days spent in each other fall into tomorrow
words matter less than the regard of her eyes
as she looks nothing else will make the trees lie
Love is graceful but not required, it is sides of a page
is it struggles to turn no desire nor judgement burned
No list you must tick for the completeness of the mix
Love is being able to read the words in the sky
Being able to soar and fall while in flight
No forgiveness or measures or conditions aside
Love is gentle and feared ferocious and alive