What is this concept all of you call "love"?
Is it an act? Much like a single kiss?
Or is it feelings that are far above
all apt descriptions or analysis?

The butterflies in your bare abdomen;
the skipping beats of hearts; the stolen breaths;
the frisson; and all similar omens—
are they not love, or affection unsheathed?

Or is it promises all made and kept?
Unbroken vows remaining strong and true?
Or bitter truths! Oh how the lover wept!
What are sweet words if not their acts we do?

Oh love, my dear, is all these things labeled.
Words spoken, unspoken, unspeakable.