The Way Love Happens

I love you, period.

Love is a quotation mark,
two apostrophes pressed against each other,
warding away the cold of night.
I open my mouth against your jugular,
wetting the warmth of your neck with my tongue.
I could press and end the world;
the stain of your blood an exclamation point,
an emphatic shout of red upon the sheets,
a stain growing larger with every heartbeat.
That's the way love happens, sometimes.

Author's Note

The punctuation version of "Love By Numbers" of course. I realize the opening lines echo.

Reviews

[MagicHearted Knight]

Very imaginative, you defiantly have a very unique flow to your work. I like it a lot.

[Tammy]

Good poem! I liked it.

Tammy

[Lestat's daughter]

Very dark, I like it a lot.