Homemade 

Everything I Never Told You

Love is not just the property
of physics but the language
of home, a feeling of belonging,
a shareable place. Sometimes a
little patch of green.
Other times an unmade field.

Its touch sharp but malleable,
a labor of commitment and
compromise, that with luck and perseverance can withstand
drought or a sun washed out by rain.

Love is neither a spell or curse
but rather feelings inked by actions.
At times a historical footnote
At other’s an entire memoir.

Often born from the tree of life,
sweet and fruitful
Other times acrid and spoiled
Love’s at its best when brushed
with agape’s stroke
Friendship pierced with eros

This kind of love can be feasted
on for years, Soul and sugar
with a portion of salt.
Imperishable and filling.
A recipe that can be recited
by heart light and remembered
during times the light bends.

-Tosha Michelle

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