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What is love?

Is it eternal, unfaltering loyalty?

Stability in the providing, the giving, in the knowing

A hand that guides the way when you are misplaced in the unforgiving world

The hand that caresses a brow; long after the fever has ended.

Or is it the fever? The mind consumed,

Every pore dripping with the wanting, the needing, the bleeding

Heart to hearts, souls burning in the intensity

You are alive. This person has confirmed it their body spoke to you,

Answered your subliminal calls, found you in the darkness, naked and lost.

Then you give it a name, speak it to one another;

So liberating the first time, to give this overwhelming passion a name.

Soon it becomes overspoken used to name you, to claim you, to tame you;

You are mine. Conditions begin to contaminate the untainted bond.

Locked inside a word, inside a phrase, your passion smothered, the flame cannot breathe.

What is love?

The interpretation depends on whose senses fall upon it

Said by so many, yet embodying the initial intention by so few.

I may never ever want to speak it, to see it, to hold it in my ears

If it means we forget to listen to the silence, if it means we become complacent

And forget to search for more than one little word.

What is love?

One day I hope it will become clear, so I can feel it, see it, taste it, hear it

But I hope Ill never be able to capture the definition in words.