What loves means to me

Love is an inquisitive feeling when they say anything

Or?

Perhaps it is a momentary sensation that we feel in passing

Or?

And stick around for, for the moment it comes back. 

Or?

Maybe it's obnoxiously shoving food into their mouth as you both laugh

Or?

Or poking each other in the stomach and squirming away from each other

Or?

Maybe it lasts a bated breath in passing

Or?

What if there is no such thing as love? 

What if we just put a name to something that shouldn't have a name?

What if we left it as an unameable sensation, that sunk deep into our souls?

Because, ironically,

That sensation feels more love

Than saying out loud "I love you"

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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