More Than Love

Love does not start with an ‘I’ 
And ends with a ‘You’. 
But somehow love, this true love, 
Has started…with you. 
And how I wish that it is in you 
Where it would end up with.

Love is more than a girl saying, 
‘Just don’t hurt me’, 
A guy answering, 
‘I won’t, but just don’t leave me’. 
It is more than a promise. I guess, 
I’ve just remembered your voice, 
Promising, very. 
How I wish you could sing for me, 
Even just once. 
I’d love for you to sing ‘Eyes on Me’; you, 
Only you, sweet acapella.

It’s not quite like…a boy…holding 
His girl’s hand, walking, 
Proud to wear a kiss-mark on his cheek, 
Roses on his other hand. 
It is not when a lover plays with your cheeks, 
Pinching them softly, as if 
They were the softest in the world, 
And doing it just because. 
It is nowhere near the kiss. 
It is not in this love poem. 
And I am nowhere near you. 
I am a cup of coffee. 
And you don’t drink coffee.

Love is not…when you’re tying your shoe, focused. 
It is not when you sneeze. 
It is not with your giggles, your wink. 
It is not in your yawning. 
It is not when you ascend or descend a staircase. 
It is not when you ride the elevator with me. 
It is not when you miss me back. 
Love is not a conqueror, 
So it does not conquer all; 
It does submit to all. 
Love is a servant. 
I am a servant of love.

Now this is me, serving: 
If you were to ask me 
To just love you, just…love you, 
I would— I would ask you…to just let me, 
Always. I…would love you. 
I think I love you. 
But God…loves us more.

© 2012 J.S.P.