Love.

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Love,

Such a foolish thing

And why do they call it 'becoming smitten'

As if Love is like a mitten

where the fingers are always together,

in which it doesn't truly matter what the world's forces enforce,

so long as the beings at the fingers base remain connected

Bonded by the dependence developed over time

Soon the influence of the exterior world diminishes to become impotent,

now solely desperate of each other's body heat

Dependency is built, Trust is built, Love is created

Love,

Such a foolish thing

Mittens become a rarity as the development of gloves arise

Fingers close in enough to sense but yet to feel,

fending for themselves

Salvation of oneself against the potential pain of reality acquires priority,

even at the expense of Love

Independence commences, Greed accumulates, Love flatters vulnerability

...
[Free Verse or Free Style]

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