Don’t tell me love is serene;
that it is quiet and still like
Don’t tell me love is the slow burn
of an arsonists fire imbued with
beautiful hues of sapphire blue; that it is elegance made of the finest silk draped around bare shoulders.
Don’t tell me love is a burst of radiant spectral light; blinking
stars made of dust, exploding and breathing life into dead things.
Don’t tell me love is a slow drumming that builds and bursts into
a glorious symphony.
Don’t tell me.
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