JBWrite13

Love looks like, 

summer nights on a moon baked patio, 

where you mistake her eyes for the stars. 

Love looks like, 

the autumn wind, 

whipping through her cinnamon brown hair. 

Causing the most beautiful tornado,

You've ever seen. 

Love looks like, 

two people loosing themselves completely in each other. 

As they move to the sweet melodies, 

Oozing through a record player. 

Love is being able to tell her anything. 

Love is looking into her eyes and seeing your future in them. 

Love is playing God, 

to the universes in her hair 

as she sleeps on your chest.

 Love is her kiss, 

which when she grants you with it. 

It sets you on fire. 

But not a regular fire. 

If your body was a forest. 

Then it's the type that would burn for years after. 

Love is whispering into her ear you'll let no one hurt her.

 But love is being the one who does. 

Love is hurt. 

Love is the tears that well up in her eyes when she sees, those abused dog commercials. Love is all the almosts and maybes, 

ever uttered by a human mouth in the course of all history. 

Love isn't careful. 

Love doesn't care who you are or who she is. 

Love. 

Loves the greatest rapist of all. 

When you say the nights over its time to go home.

 It's time to stop. 

Love.  

Love hears nothing and never goes home till it decides.  

Love.

-JB