It's only Love.

It’s Only Love

I've waited so impatiently for its visits.
I thought for sure, I'd missed it.

It filled the quiet spaces like pitch black burning,
permeating as a blazing contagion,
drenched in exhausted yearning.

It's only Love, but I was too late to notice.
My fingertips sensed it, coming in tight.
A bruised little heart silenced her instincts,
gasped, tried to hide, but she's entangled,
along for the drive. Love's too ripe, overflowing the Tide.

It's only Love, but, we forgot its aching,
variable emotions, and decision weighing.
Annotating our hearts as they scream heavy,
sighs of longing, hard and ready.

It's only Love, and I'll take it.
It's only Mine, and I may break it.

And cliché is cliché for a reason.
I'll embrace the joy, if only for a season.

And once again... I'm just dried leaves, waiting on the wind.