What Love Must Have Been…

When the heart would choose before the eyes because you grew up with the one you loved and got betrothed long before a physical form was given to the senses.

When tears of heartbreak were for loss because love was for life and life was built from the love that was shared.

Can we ever truly consider we no longer love a person? In some way, inside of me will always be the person that loved you that day but this means I have no less of my heart to give only the worry that my heart becomes ever cautious of falling into a depth from which I do not know it will emerge.

A belief in forever on tenuous ground and I am surrounded by eyes not ears or open hearts as mine stands alight in its fire which burns so adamantly in the faith and hope in humanities goodness.

I could always be wrong but as I close my eyes my dreams tell me otherwise and when I awake it is always to some news. Good or bad than drives me forward.

From my friend who has been working with words for years and finally laid rest to the beginnings of a beautiful novel to another whose quest for knowledge within science sees him endlessly endeavor through ailment.

It’s not just about love, it’s about the placement of a heart. The denial of consequence for some when eyes become to wide in smooth lines and faulted feelings. What would have been, what were and what now is.

I wonder, in hope, what can be ?

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