Published on: 10/2/2013
True Love

The truth of love is held within the eyes,
Not of the young, in passion's first embrace;
Electric sparks that jolt the heart; the chase
That ends in tumbled sheets and carnal sighs;
Not summer days, spent chasing butterflies
And gazing at a lover's perfect face
At rest, against a grassy pillowcase;
Nor in the angst of bittersweet goodbyes.

The truth of love is captured in the tender
Tears she sheds on days he can't recall a
Face, or why she's come, or if they've met before.
And when he falls asleep, she will pretend their
Life's not lost—but vows to honour, love, obey,
Which bind her tight, can't hold him anymore.