a word is a word
and it points to something
that isn't a word
a word is
a word
(the only word to be a word)
for love
is not a word
it's the little kisses
that like a gentle breeze
caress your eyes
a smile that once
whispered
and said everything
by moving oh so little
the same smile
that fills your breath
with such stillness
and you move
you touch
what used to be
a falling leaf
(the last falling leaf)
the end of a whisper
of time -
love is now
a word
was when you read it
and like a little stream
it runs down your cheek
the same cheek
I once kissed
forever
but watch my words
loveisnow
is
the fleeting sensation
of a thought flying out of the window
leaving behind
a tingling body
and freeing, perhaps
a little space
so I
can
now
be
