Who is Love?

The power of hands, clasped together, is a feeling taken for granted.

The security, the trust, the comfort a simple gesture brings.

A question arises, is it so much the gesture,

Or rather the person?

Love is a dangerously beautiful term,

Four letters smashed together with the ability to destroy,

And the ability to create.

To start, what is this elusive idea, love?

He is the bright moon, guiding the way on dark nights.

He is the gentle warmth of the sun,

Felt on bare skin during quiet days.

He is the easiest hello, and the most dreadful goodbye.

Yet our dear friend, Love,

He is not always wonderful.

He can be harsh, cruel, controlling.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

He cares not for your words, he cares only for himself.

Love changes, for he is inconsistent with his desires.

We need not ponder on what love is,

Rather upon who love is.

Love changes, as he is inconsistent with his desires.

There was the love who was unkind,

Who wanted to control you,

Who wanted to make you into someone you are not meant to be.

He was the dangerous love.

There is the pure love,

The love you wish to grasp onto and never relinquish,

The kind of love that never dies.

He is kind, he is strong, he is security and safety.

“Love” is all but an idea,

Just four simple letters,

Unable to touch you.

The person you fall for, now,

That is our answer to love.