Love
Is love the longing for his touch
Or is it simply longing for his presence?
One seems insatiable want of the flesh,
While the other calm, yet mourns at his absence.
I wonder if they are the twin heads of one feeling
That changes from affection to desire
Though separated love causes intensity of suffering
Presence of love in itself brings warmth through its fire.
Age is just a number and no barrier for love
One is not aware when and how it creeps in
It may enter the soul as innocent as a dove
Or take your heart into a wild spin
Yet life devoid of love, with all its riches is poor
And life filled with love, in spite of poverty is rich.
Anonymus
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