I take a deep gasp, through our eye contact sees a vague reflection that seeks to conform, how to love.
My smile reflected through her smile, as I watch the gorgeous quiver as I rise, the end of an adulterated exercise, how to love.
Out in the wick, the start of an experience that felt free even in the midst of durity, how to love.
Engine sounds, tyres screeched as I hop in the cab on the daily route in the joy of the morning this faithful day.
Looking out the window at first traffic, was her favourite boutique shop on the high street, out on the street, a scene of gore.
A dead wish to be part of a family, a succinct journey from the cradle to the grave, the demise of fruitfulness and its seeds bound to nurture other seeds, never getting back to that apron or next seasons collection, how to love.
An experience to despise, trying to understand the recklessness in our lives, as passers-by gathered, sirens sounding.
The sight governed by pure grief embedded with loss of hope, as I stare through the cab window, a brief experience of life’s paradox, how to love.
Assailant is making a forlorn attempt to escape, but a pursuit is in place, the whole wick is awake trying to acclimatise how sick, life goes, in just a flick, how to love.
It is now dawn, as I feel her bosom wrapped underneath the tuck, catching up on the day, how to love.
I come to a rude awakening, that the victim earlier was a friend, and also that we have been blessed with fruitfulness and are expecting, how to love.
My heart kept racing steadily, as I experienced a constant dosage of Goosebumps for at least five to ten minutes for the next two hours, how to love.
Paranoia kicks in, being uncertain about life and its strategic and interrelated complexities, I give the wrong expression/impression without consideration, as I make my way out of the house, how to love.
It is now the fortnight since I heard the news, feeling brand new, I ponder once again, ‘Life is an Adventure, Dare it’. ‘Life is a Tragedy, Confront it’. ‘Life is struggle, accept it’, and ‘Life is luck, Make it’.
‘Immature love says: I love you because I need you’.’ Mature love says: I need you because I love you’.
‘I have found the paradoxes, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.’ How to Love.