Ever thought of where in your body love rests? Where is it born, where is it located and where inside does it live?
Is it the heart? Is it the soul?
We sort of know where the heart is, but where is the soul?
Or maybe love just travels inside and each time lays down somewhere else, just like a gipsy. Each times it knocks inside in order to let you know that it is still there, that we should not forget about its existence.
Is it always inside or it can also be out too? Does it hear us, when we call it?
Where are you, love?
Maybe you are in my arms, when I hug him or under his fingertips, when he runs them through my hair.
Maybe you are on my lips when I pronounce the sweet, warm words, or his lips, when they are kissing mine.
Maybe you are in each letter that I type, or simply are on my mind....
Maybe you are in my chest, when together with the jealousy, you make the breathing hard. Or maybe you are in my breath, which I send out when I realize the jealousy was not justified...
Maybe you are in my stomach, where the butterflies are...
Maybe you are in my thoughts, which are filled with him... or maybe in his thought, where I am sometimes...
Maybe you flow through my veins or play with the sparkles in my eyes...
Maybe you are in that one special sunray, which makes me warm inside...
Maybe you are in the wind, by which you came in...
Maybe you are on the naked flesh, or in the bedroom sigh...
Or maybe you are in every single tear that I cry...
Maybe you are in my bravest dreams...