Love walks in like it’s always lived here—
barefoot, unapologetic,
dragging sunlight across the floor like a blanket
it refuses to fold.
It opens all the windows at once,
laughs too loud in the quiet moments,
starts naming the plants even though
they’re probably going to die anyway.
Love doesn’t ask permission.
It rewrites the furniture layout,
puts your favorite song on repeat
and says, “This...
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