Love exists because he made it so.
Her mouth formed a perfect o.
Oh how beautiful she was,
how gently she stirred
and patiently he stirred her coffee,
exactly thirteen times.
He swept back a beautiful mass,
of time and space from her forehead.
Recited the words he said
in his head he would.
Her hair tusselled like inky ribbons round his fingers
the smell stained over the cigarette trace.
Such a celestial form
stood before him.
Her cold stained,smiling face.
Her bottomless eyes dampened each garment,
that people had loved and discarded:
she was no garment.
No flimsy vessel of vanity,
she was more a Danoon mug.
Solid, pale glowing in rich humbleness,
Love in the form of milky warmth
reached her lips.
Enthused by her twirling wrists
and swirling thoughts
of when he's kissed her.
Told her all the things she'd never know,
had love never existed,
had he not made it so.