The other thing about love

I wait, he once said to me.

To see the world awaken to the story of you and me.

Can you not see? I say to him, beguiling,

The world now stands to attention, the flowers have bloomed, the earth has resounded, the choirs of angels boom.

It is strange, how the world has created a diversion,

for you and me, to live a tale of madness.

.

There is that hurt that needs to be forsaken,

No matter the pain.

Why do you hurt? I ask,

Do you not see, he says. For if you see, hurt, just like fear are meant to buried without a chance to resurgence.

.

These are the ways of love,

that first impression – it lingers, lasting forever

that touch that kindles – even through the deep recesses of your being,

the light in your eyes – a spark to illuminate.

that flicker of a smile – a balm to hurt and pain

that caress – of softness it represents

that kiss – a ripple that will waken your senses to love without reasoning.

.

Have you heard? Of love stories that have transcended time?

The ones that have touched the core of hardened souls.

Or of the ones who hear and who cry,

Love transcended to another time, another place,

Love that have filled you with remorse,

Love that owns your mortal soul,

Of love that is as obsessive as it is inhibiting. Have you found love like that?

.

No, he says.

All true love hurts, all true love transforms, all true love endures the test of time.

-shobana-