I think

I don’t really love you

or anything.

I can’t say that

I do

When I know why

I probably think

I do.


But this  I know I love

And I know I love it

Because I don’t know why


I love that


scent that emanates from

a sun embraced rock  that

teases my nose and satisfies me

with an insatiable yearning

when the first few kisses of rain

evaporate as pure effervescence of

reasonless love


“We love him


He first loved us”

So, so

does this mean

based on the premise that

if I know why I think

I love you,

I don’t love you


I don’t love






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