Am I This

The smiles seen on the black path,

Happy and loved,

Walking down with my head in

the sky. Confused if I should be with

the standing teeth, shining so bright,

Not knowing if I am this.

If I am, I'd be in flight,

Holding a significants hand,

Cuddling, aweing, loving.

Am I this thing they call love?

For what is it? A feeling from an organ,

Or just something said?

Although, I am this daring figure,

Who comforts, who show the brightnest from my mouth,

Who take flight anytime and need.

Am I This?