I cannot write of love when I am in love.
I cannot write of you.
I cannot write of me,
Nor can I write about us when I’m in love.

It’s just that this love…
( this love of mine )

It becomes like a dove.
That flies up high. That flies up above.
That lifts me up, That raises me high.
And makes me sit upon clouds of lust,
that then dissolve
and make me fall.

( Oh and I fall.
I fall deeply in love )

Until it spreads its wings and starts to soar.
Until it levitates. Until it floats.
Until its wings regain control.
Until this love, this love of mine, that is like a dove,
captures me,

until it mesmerizes me,
until it seizes me

until all that’s left of me
is my heart, mind , and soul
being slowly and safely left
well grounded on the reality
that this love
is seen by both of us
as your hand reaches mine
as my hand reaches yours
as we both feel the dove,
with our fingers
on our hands.

Then I stop falling from up above,
Then I start walking on this reality
that we are here
letting our love fly

Then I can write about love when I’m in love.
I can write about you.
I can write about me.
I can write about us.

Written by: L.L.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s