The Sun and Her Flowers. Белые стихи, от которых распускаются цветы

    – преждевременная смерть любви

what love looks like

what does love look like

the therapist asks

one week after the breakup

and i’m not sure how to answer her question

except for the fact that i thought love

looked so much like you

that’s when it hit me

and i realized how naive i had been

to place an idea so beautiful on the image of a person

as if anybody on this entire earth

could encompass all love represented

as if this emotion seven billion people tremble for

would look like a five foot eleven

medium-sized brown-skinned guy

who likes eating frozen pizza for breakfast

what does love look like

the therapist asks again

this time interrupting my thoughts midsentence

and at this point i’m about to get up

and walk right out the door

except i paid far too much money for this hour

so instead i take a piercing look at her

the way you look at someone

when you’re about to hand it to them

lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation

eyes digging deeply into theirs

searching for all the weak spots

they have hidden somewhere

hair being tucked behind the ears

as if you have to physically prepare for a conversation

on the philosophies or rather disappointments

of what love looks like

well

i tell her

i don’t think love is him anymore

if love was him

he would be here wouldn’t he

if he was the one for me

wouldn’t he be the one sitting across from me

if love was him it would have been simple

i don’t think love is him

anymore i repeat

i think love never was

i think i just wanted something

was ready to give myself to something

i believed was bigger than myself

and when i saw someone

who could probably fit the part

i made it very much my intention

to make him my counterpart

and i lost myself to him

he took and he took

wrapped me in the word special

until i was so convinced he had eyes only to see me

hands only to feel me

a body only to be with me

oh how he emptied me

how does that make you feel

interrupts the therapist

well

i said

it kind of makes me feel like shit

maybe we’re all looking at it wrong

we think it’s something to search for out there

something meant to crash into us

on our way out of an elevator

or slip into our chair at a cafe somewhere

appear at the end of an aisle at the bookstore

looking the right amount of