Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Observations on Love

It’s not what you tell me that hurts me the most
Though truth can be brutal and bitter to taste
It’s what you don’t tell me that cuts to the core
Without trust, love is simply a futile waste

It’s not what you do that charms me most deeply
Though love shown in action is precious indeed
It’s what you don’t do when you could embellish my weakness
That tells me you love me beyond your own need

If you think I’m in need of designer affection
I have one thing to say, and I intend no hurt
But without tender respect, you can keep your advances
Love in the bedroom begins in the dirt


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