love.... what it is and what it is not...

well... this sure is a topic and a half hey...
the core of billions of poems, movies, songs, artwork.
The absolute axis, the M- theory, the universal theme...

which we have either ( or both ) exhausted or hardly dipped into...
depending on which side of Cupid's arrow you find yourself.
You will have your own reaction to the L-word and the expression of it.

so let me share with you...
Love is painful
Love is gentle

Love is excitement and dizzying dispair
Love is strength and vulnerability

Love is inspiration and courage
Love is melancholy and it is also a coward
it lets you believe things which are untrue
It lets you believe so strongly in things that they become true
It is the alchemy and the explosion
It leaves you touched by starry-magic
and it leaves you homeless without a sense-of-self

or even a band-aid...

Love Sonnet XI

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Pablo Neruda

My eyes went away from me
Following a dark girl who went by.

She was made of black motherofpearl
Made of darkpurple grapes,
And she lashed my blood
With her tail of fire.

After them all I go.

A pale blonde went by
Like a golden plant
Swaying her gifts.
And my mouth went
Like a wave
Discharging on her breast
Lightningbolts of blood.

After them all I go.

But to you, without my moving,
Without seeing you,

distant you,
Go my blood and my kisses,
My dark one and my fair one,
My broad one and my slender one,
My ugly one, my beauty,
Made of all the gold
And of all the silver,
Made of all the wheat

And of all the earth,
Made of all the water
Of sea waves,
Made for my arms
Made for my kisses,
Made for my soul.

Pablo Neruda