...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_f2-88pyRtU&ab_channel=LaBlogoth%C3%A8que

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Love,

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Is something that builds in a vacuum -

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A nuclear experiment, a pair of atoms

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Fired along a circumnavigable cylinder.

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Love,

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Christ, that word's misuse is its own undoing.

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There are 7 billion of us,

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7 Billion of us 

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With 7 billion definitions, denominations,

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Multiplied by the various precognitions,

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The presupposition that love is love

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When we stumble across it - 

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For it must have been,

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As I'd never known anything 

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As remarkably close to it before -

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Or by the clear assumption

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That one can know love, as many times

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And as often as they choose, 

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Or predispose themselves to find it.

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Love,

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Love,

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Of all the curse words,

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All the f***s, and cocksuckers,

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All the vile things that can fall from one's mouth,

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That word is up there.

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The word is suicidal -

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For if not careful

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It will act to kill 

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Its own occurrence,

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By and large hang its own existence -

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"I love you"

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Personified by the 38.

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I'm using to hold you hostage with.

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Love,

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Why not care?

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Is that not a better word?

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Less loaded?

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A blank before the hollow point?

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Love,

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Curses,

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Love, is supposed to transcend itself -

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It is supposed to break rules,

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Defy laws of physics,

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Probability, and reoccurrence.

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The whole world talks of love

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Like they know what it is -

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Like their heartbreak is unique,

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That the universe chose them 

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And them alone,

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To unfold the meaning, to lay out the narrative 

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Like a red carpet designed for their sole heart.

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Love is not supposed to be conceited.

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It is not supposed to be a tool.

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It is not a weapon.

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F**k,

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Love,

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It is, in its brief moment,

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A magic thing, it is purpose

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Made manifest - it is altruism,

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It is compassion, and transcendence.

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And these things, magic,

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Disappear when we abuse its presence,

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Whip it, or kiss its feet,

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For the sole regard

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Of our own personal comfort,

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For our own sole, self benefit.

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Author's Note

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPsBFPX_yU4&ab_channel=BonIver