NaPoWriMo 9: Love Things

An abundance of love is, perhaps, all I could give to you. 

In Turkish delights,

In cozy nights, 

I just want to make you smile. Your smile. What a view. 

Love is a weird substance.

Made of sighs,

Joyful (sad) cries,

Happy eyes.

Sex.

The latter has minor importance

But feels good, brings balance. 

You are a comfortable silence. 

That first daisy. 

The sound of morning birds.

The whole world is crazy, 

If this isn’t love. No words 

Can help me say this, but I’ll try:

You are the pure bliss of a starry sky

For a child born in a big city. 

Oh, i do pity those, 

Who have never seen it,

Who will never feel that glee:

This sky might have no limit, 

But every star in it belongs to me.