Love is
what always has been.
The realness of life, that
allows what is, to be seen.

Collapsed in these arms
-all that is raw within you.
Nurtured, only by this; more
important than any other food.

The language, of
everything, a collective melody.
Only found in the here of now;
emanating from your heart,
as the most powerful frequency.

Felt only, when
It is allowed to flow.
Withhold, and the breath
becomes weak; so release love,
and your soul will grow.

Love for a self image
Is a love of thought.
Ephemeral and unstable, this
is where the real you is not.

There never will be, a complete
love, for something separated.
To Love thyself truly
Is to simply love all, period.