The Why Is Love

Between the dock and the rowboat,
trillium blossoms.

At the cliff-edge.
Swimming past the breakwater.

Watching them walk away, then
kissing the smooth temples of sleep.

No answers and no guarantees,
no how or what or when.

Only this letting go into knowing,
knowing why and who:

These girls, immovable from my heart.
And the why is love, love.
Always love.

Posted in: Uncategorized

5 thoughts on “The Why Is Love

  1. bella says:

    this moved me.
    I have never regretted a single thing I did in and for and because of love.
    Coming here, taking in your words, you have a way of calling me home.
    Again and again and again.



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