Love is
the smell of raspberry pie that
you always hated and
bought anyway because
I loved it.
Love is
the bitter dredges of coffee
you would go without because
the coffee was almost out and
payday was in two weeks and I
can't function without coffee, and
neither can you but you did anyway.
Love is
the sweet taste of strawberry candy
that I loved and
you loved and
we would argue over the
empty wrappers because
we were in love and
fighting was fun.
Love is
the empty echo of a
house that you left because you
needed a break but
the breaks were always short
because it
was love.