Love is soft.

It is warm.

It is cozy,

Without form.

It is light, to the touch,

But with heartbreak it is rough.

It is wispy like a cloud,

Sometimes quiet sometimes loud.

It doesnt like to be contained,

In the closet of your brain.

It is beauty, it is grace.

It can never be erased.

Sometimes slow, sometimes fast.

Sometimes little, sometimes vast.

It spreads easy as air,

Sometimes cruel, sometimes fair.

Sometimes it is hard to find,

Until its right into your mind.