When love knocks your door, oh wait , love is not that polite. It has a nasty habit of poking you , nudging you , teasing you and winking shamelessly at you when you are with that special someone or thinking about him later on. The whole world might await or ask about it in whispers and you will walk away, lying about it – to yourself and to others.
Then one day , lying on the grass , watching the sunlight play blinking games with you, you feel the butterflies in your stomach as he leans over you and kisses you, the very kiss you dreamed about from weeks just happens without a warning or planning. While you were waiting for grand signs, love came and made home in your heart and his in subtle ways on just another day.
That night , you write in your diary, with most sheepish grin and stars in your eyes. you declare in capital letters to yourself, “I AM IN LOVE”.
And life goes on. In love. With your love. For his love.
The moments melt , like yin and yang , like smiling tears or tearful smiles , like a make up kiss or the useless fight.
You are not you. He is not him.
“We” live to love.
Early not,nor late
the world will hear the music
his love claims me