Love was

Love was a scribble

Every stroke so glumly done

So haphazard — that one

could ever be oblivious of

What the lines and curves

Would spell

Love is

Love is a couplet

Two lines that rhyme and fit

Words are its rock —

Sweet, reassuring, dearest

Hold right and tight the plume

And the couplet runs ceaseless

Love will be

Love will be these blank pages

Pure, and white and innocent

Forever it will be waiting

Until we write on it —

commas, apostrophes,

quotations, ellipsis




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