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LOVE IS?

Writer's picture: TONY SCARPATONY SCARPA

love is the most confusing form of human communication

exists to baffle the mind, perplex the soul, blurring reason with chaos

one can feel it's presence yet never feel its passion

feel nothing but passion and never feel its embracing warmth

how can something intangible be experienced by all of humanity?

and never feel the same for any two individuals?

like snowflakes flinging wildly in a fierce storm

each unique and incomparable

hands pressed together fingerprints of one

not duplicated on the other

yet, love seems

so essential

so integeral

so bewildering

so complex

so unsettling


such is love, undefinable

found, it increases life with inestimable joy taken to intoxicating levels

lost, it rips the sinew from the flesh, shatters trust, hope, belief

destructive as a explosion to render everything seemingly marred

nothing remains as before, every atom now misplaced

clawing through the wreckage searching for remnants of what was

cries of hearts broken, yet hearts can never break

souls can break

questions never answered what? why? how?

closure improbable

separation complete, steel doors slide shut

lost as easily as found

sobs, anger, sadness

filling the void created by the fleeing of joy and happiness

unfathomable pain

suffering imminent

survival doubtful


often unbalanced it might exist as a tiny flicker of emotion for one

yet all encompassing, a future lifetime for another

shared it can turn the black velvet sky

to one filled with brilliantly illuminated stars

shooting blazing trails toward the horizon

life becomes more colorful and vibrant

endorphins release unbounding joy

all the things done together make it so

to list the activities would take an eternity

once again each detail as personal as a teardrop in the ocean


yet in the midst of loves wonder

exists a vulnerability

fear and trust, insecurity, close cousins to love

will slither in the second they sense a fissure

attempting to shake the exuberance to its core

tearing at the levels of elation

creating doubt

questions


does he love me?

he said he loved me two weeks ago

he did not say it today

where do i place my trust in my own heart or his lack of words?

does he feel the need to express love a failing, a weakness?

if i question him what will his response be?

will he laugh and say "of course i love you silly one"

or will he become angered that you questioned his love?

possibly he might answer, "do not my actions tell you i love you, every day?"

"do you not see that, i may not say it but i show you love?"

sometimes he will take you in his arms pressing you tightly

placing his tender lips to yours

love it is, you sigh


is it?

so many times passion hides in the folds of the crimson cloak of love

you give to receive yet once given do you recieve?

he holds you tightly you embrace

heated skin meeting heated skin

two hearts pounding

lips caress trembling flesh

quivering with the contact

the hours touching

exploring, seeking, longing

the excitement rises to heights

to challenge the magnificent moon

the joining and becoming one

each drop of sweat trickles and mingles together with his

passion can no longer be held at bay

intimacy that lovers can only experience

that moment of the impending release

all at once the ground moves beneath you

waves of sensation lift you and you float with each

creasting to a consuming eruption of sensation

the ebb and flow of the tide sweeps to the shore

the breath slows, the once heaving chest eases

before exhilarating strokes, now unbearably sensitive

you seperate, he rolls to your side

his panting speaks of his desire now spent

his lips touch yours slowly without intent

as if to thank you for the gift

so eagerly given

you stroke his damp hairline

as he sighs, closes his eyes

he kisses your palm

you sense the fullness

the wholeness

the reality of the moment

it is love

it must be love

his eyes speak volumes

his touch now ownership

no longer strangers

united in the act of love

he knows your body

and you allow his purusal

with tender tactillity

not lustful passion

that was before

this is now

now is connection

before was lust

this must be love

it feels like love


he slips into a deep sleep

you study his face

trace your fingers over his profile

you sigh

this is what love feels like

you tell yourself

a balance

the yin and yang

slowly spinning

light into dark

forever


how long is forever?

how long is love?

love guarantees nothing

ever

yet we seek it constantly

we demand it constantly

love flows within its own nature

organic or contrived

real or fake

temperamental and fleeting

or long lasting, decades


how does one speak a language

without words

it can only be experienced and felt

owned not owed

emotions not tangible

desired, longed for, grasped, held

sought, found, practiced, familiar

owned

loved

within its boundaries we are the universe, limitless

without we are lost, empty, pained, incomplete

love is simply the most confusing form of human communication

such is love



tony scarpa 6/23/2018



love is simply the most confusing form of human communication
LOVE IS?




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