The Way Love Happens

by Aaron Blair

Love is a quotation mark,
two apostrophes pressed against each other,
warding away the cold of night.
I open my mouth against your jugular,
wetting the warmth of your neck with my tongue.
I could press and end the world;
the stain of your blood an exclamation point,
an emphatic shout of red upon the sheets,
a stain growing larger with every heartbeat.
That's the way love happens, sometimes.


Posted on 02/18/2008
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Christina Gleason on 02/19/08 at 12:32 AM

yes, very.

Posted by Bob Arcania on 03/03/08 at 11:08 PM


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