Forever.

That’s what love is, isn’t it? Omipresent, omipotent, omnipotent. It bubbles in the stomach acid like heat boiling water, disrupting the electrical rhythm of the heart like a form of arrythmia. It urges fingers to intertwine, lips to crash together, legs to tangle; love is a poem, creating couplets from individuals, bringing verbage into life that wasn’t there before.

Maybe not for Mom...