love ~ (n) all the little pieces of a person.
love was the suitcase i packed
on a winter’s morning
to share your couch
and my heart,
ice cream and sheets.
love was the painting i once bought,
silly and too bright
for a three year old
with hair that grew curlier
at every second glance;
just like her old man
who played the martyr
in a war they called politics.
love was the milk that boiled over
and your mother’s hand
with all the culinary superiority
shining through her cheeky smile;
love was the sigh i heaved that day
and the grin i returned.
love was the loss of my mother
in a land between
terrible fear and pure relief;
it was the tears i wept to no end,
the numb that refused to leave.
love is me,
thin bones, bad hair, invisible scars,
looking into a mirror:
whispering to myself,
//Questions of the Curious Soul – Pt. 1//