centuries

vii. limits

is it called love,
laughing at silly jokes?
we know not.
is it called love,
smiling when we catch each other's eye?
we know not.
is it called love,
trying to spend every waking moment with each other?
we know not.
is it called love,
talking to one another like we are a part of each other's soul?
we know not.
is it called love,
trying to find solace in each other's company and
trying to enjoy every second we spend
with each other
before the she leaves and doesn't call me back, because her
parents don't like it
w e k n o w n o t.

but I think we do.

but
and yet I pretend to not know why
your image is painted in my eyes.