Love is joyful,
Love is pain,
Love, a sweet smelling flower,
Pulls me to its scent,
And kills me with its breath.
Love stabs me with sharp petals,
And lashes, with fiery forest green leaves.
With every torturous gasp I take,
I whither.
Love’s entrancing, enticing entity,
Takes me in,
Holds me,
Stabs me,
Caresses me,
Cuts me.
This seesaw love,
It plagues me,
My head it whirls and twirls about,
Love stalks my smitten soul.
By L. M. Montes
WRITE TIME AND AGAIN 