The L Word

Scared to drop it

Hear it.

Mean it.

So for now I will just whisper it. Not even aloud but within the pattern of my heart beats. Which is rather rapid when in the same room as you. Maybe I won't even notice the syllables of the 4 letter word escape from that cold lonely place. 

And you will never know. 

I believe the reason we love the cold side of the pillow is because of the hope that it won't always be cold. One day replaced by the weight of my sleepy head against your secure framed collarbones that contour my cheeks exactly. A fit so right it is as if they were created to cradle my face only.

and maybe that's Love.

He looks at her, after 52 years. Still In awe of the beauty and grace she holds, despite her thin gray hair and  streaky veined hands. 

He stands and proclaims that she is the best part about him. 

I still don't know how, who, or what love is exactly.

But 52 years has got to mean somethin.