Is it loud and bold or soft as a whisper?
Do you know it when you have it or only when you lose it?
Is it born of life or ressurected in death?
Can you buy it or is it beyond cost?
Do we ever love as much as we’re supposed to or does our hurt shield us from ever opening fully?
Can the explosions on a battle field destroy it or is it unbreakable?
Is it possible to love so fiercely that it evokes PERMISSIBLE violence?
Or can love only be nurtured in soft strokes?
Can indifference be love?
Can lies be love?
Can pain be love?
How is it that something we can’t even touch affects us so much?
When was the last time you saw love?
What did it look like?
Can you taste love?
What’s the recipe?
If love never dies then why do we?
Or do we?
Are we made of love?
Do our hearts pump LOVE instead of blood?
Is blood love?
Are hearts simply buckets of love?
Is that swelling in our chests fear or love?
If we say I love you really really fast and hang up, does it mean less than if we say it slowly lingering on the words and the objects of our affections?
Where does love go on vacation?
What if there were love colonics? Would we be heavier or lighter upon completion?
When we spell love l-u-v are we masking our true feelings of actual love?
Can love ever truly be interrupted?
So, if love is the question, then what’s the answer?
© 2011 – 2014, TamekaMullins. All rights reserved.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.