What’s love?
When you catch yourself smiling at a picture?
When your heart breaks over and over again?
Maybe—from a far distance,
or in close proximity?
Is it when you finish your first love poem?
Or discover your faith in someone who holds you tight,
instead of from a mirrored creed?
What’s love?
Any.
Way
1 comment:
"THIS IS THE BEST POEM BY DIANA LABRECQUE I HAVE READ IN MY LIFE." -ASHES, THE KITTY 3 YEARS OLD.
DIi, I really love this poem, I don't think it should be a draft... you should "title her"
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