Love

Love

Love is the bottom of a wine bottle

Days after a good party and a bad hangover—

Sticky and black.

Love is a conniving frienemy

That poisons you blind—

Forges entrapment for release,

For happiness.

 

Love is patient, love is kind,

It does not envy, it does not boast,

It seduces, it destroys,

It frees you

Inside a tiny box

To run, to exercise

The demon that possessed your heart.

 

Love is wicked, love is right,

Its what made you open the wine bottle

To celebrate, to cry.

It broke your heart

But sang you to sleep,

It wooed you, but cut you so deep.

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