Love Faux Pas

The beauty of love is when it is felt by two. I started tracking down the history of “whose” fault. Being human, to fault is ok-- This, persistently, leads me to spy the naked lady, on shoreline rocks, displaying her rarity with a pink smile. I desire to achieve the secret of the infidels. Many times, I was teased to go for it, to see and live my dream, to strive for something pleasant. Yet, the mystified blue bell, in my patio, stirs …and sighs; she’s letting me notice her willingness. Yes, a month from now is winter. And, my roof will fill with snowflakes of abundant loneliness, sending me alone, watching the awesome dancing fire. Oh, I sense my breath, in silent gasping, avoid waking the eye of jealousy, but by then lightning strikes. What have I done? My soul trembles. Almost insane I am, with the madness, what the eyes have seen. Love hides the infidels, my damn thought. Finally, here’s where I truly stand: I won’t commit myself to love, ‘til you’ve loved yourselves, for… the beauty of love is when it is felt by two.