LOVE

For some, love unfolds like a silk blanket 

over freshly mown grass 

on a balmy June day.
For some, love rolls out like a red carpet 

to blaring trumpet music 

and flying rose petals.
For some, love is built plank by plank, 

bravely joining two lands 

and making them one.
For some, love is like a 5th grader’s secret note 

having been forgotten in the pocket of her jeans

washed and tumble dried 

into a thickly layered chunk.
When unfolded, only deteriorating, indecipherable, 

light blue BIC pen hatching or question marks remain.
Dust and bits, 

dust and bits. 

Lint and confusion 

covered in 

melted strawberry 

chapstick wax.