There is justice in love. There is you respect me, I respect you. There are open waves of communication and light, airy energy. Oh I thought it was so many things before but no, no love is none of those things…but love tries to be.
Love is my type. Love is talking about him over and over to my girlfriends but claiming still he is not worthy. Love is when I fall on my face and need him to pick me up. Love is that guy in the corner dusting croissant crumbs from his shirt. But a wedding ring shines on his hand so love is him, but not for me.
Love is us dancing.
Love is us dancing when no one else is dancing. Love is you spinning me and me dipping you. Love is me being made a fool. Love is you with your eyes on me all night.
Love is you having more self-control than I do and me trying to siphon it through your mouth.
Love is us both having adorable cats, yours fuzzy, mine fat, and me day-dreaming of us all living together.
Love is the many many months I’ve put into this relationship, whether I wanted to or not.
Love is us having the same (excellent) taste in music.
Love is me kicking and screaming.
Love is you playing guitar.
Love is me thinking I’m better than you only you realize you are a much better man than I am.
Love is writing so hard about you I run out of paper.
Love is knowing I could write all night long about love.
Which I know nothing about.
Love is death.
Love is birth.
Love escapes.
Love is trapped
just outside my door.
MAMA BIRD 
I’m not sure what it is myself, but it might be all those things or some of them, or some of them some of the time or just a few of them, but the question is always entertaining. I don’t know if you read my Blog, which is probably unlikely, but I do muse on this kind of thing myself, but without definite conclusion.
I would most certainly read your blog if I could log more hours on the computer, which feels impossible sometimes as I do not have a connection at home. I regret that I cannot support you more but I super duper appreciate your reading & comments. You are so very awesome, thank you.
nice
Thank you!
this poem goes to you..
This speaks to me because love is this crazy thing everyone talks about but at the same time it’s this thing no one ever wants to put energy into and when they do..they either put too much and get hurt or they put too much and the other person doesn’t give back…
Yeah, I feel like (and I’m gathering that you do too) at some point you get older and wiser and realize how much work “Love” actually is and you’re like “nah, I’m not up for it.” Though I surmise that you get even older and even more wiser and realize that for some reason this little thing called Love is actually worth the struggle…
Love is rediscovering a friend I’ve never met, and yet her words have the power to ignite passion and inspire me to live; to truly and courageously live.
Please don’t ever stop pouring your heart and soul out, I need to know that although I sometimes lose myself in the indignities of surviving there is a beacon out there that will one day help me find my way.
Well! You have been MIA Mr.! I like that…love is rediscovering a friend I’ve never met. It can apply to so many different situations. To discovering in someone you thought you knew very a new side that you respect and admire. Respect and admire. That is my latest definition of Love.
I am honored to inspire you, to inspire anyone. I am a bottom feeder constantly swimming amoungst the muck to find sources of inspiration myself. It is fuel. It is food. It is everything is it not?
P.S. Update your blog dammit — I’m rooting for you!
Sorry Terah, I’ll try to get back at it soon. It is hard to find time right now but I assure you Finn and I are still having adventures 🙂
I am sure!! 🙂