If It's Love

Every word you say

I keep with me,

Like that sweatshirt you left

At my house that I keep because

It still smells a little like you.

I am intrigued by everything

Your eyes hint but

Never quite say- like a book where

They’ve got the cover just right.

And if my intellect is ever like

A forest fire in your heart,

And if even when we’re apart

You’ll say I’m the Cordelia

To your French kingdom,

Maybe we can call it love

And say each tomorrow

Will feel like when the sun

Bursts through

Your bedroom window on a

Tranquil yellow summer morning.