Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones. ~Mignon McLaughlin

I’m sure some of us break a sweat- sprinting and chasing the hope of “true love”.

We yearn for the kind of love that disintegrates the problems of the world like acid.

Burning and tearing through reality,
we want love that blindfolds us in a honeycombed paradise.

-Too sweet to taste the bitterness around us and so sticky that it slows down time.

Blind to the heavy hardships in life, this love would elevate elbows, toes, and hips into the air
 … looking down on the rest of the world.

We lift our eyes to the sky and with audible audacity - pray for “true love”.

Lovers that will crazy glue their ribs to one another in a desperate attempt to mimic Adam.

Calling.
Texting.
Tweeting.
Facebook relationship statusing.
Kissing. Sharing the same breath, convinced that you’re conserving oxygen. You know you have asthma but you would flat line to spend more time …with her.
You tremble- terrified that if she walks away, you will be left to confront David’s slingshot of truth.

We want the kind of love that illuminates the good in our counterparts and buries the bad. Pushing these giant elephants into the corners of our limited rooms, we flatter and …wait for the storm of compliments to fall our heads in return. We give and wait for reciprocation.

We crave the kind of love that chains us in furry handcuffs wrapped to bedposts & each other.

This besotted love.
Smothering each other in momma-paid-for bed sheets.
Sinking in soft pillows and rough orgasms – hoping that roll-backed eyes will hold back time.

This obsessive love that transforms lovers into syringes, piercing the other’s veins with desperate dependency and hopes that are high enough to graze the feet of  a cringing God.

But I don’t need that “dragqueen love”: Infatuation dressed in “true love” wardrobe.