Love lines

My love starts
at the veins in your feet,
blue roots stretching to the ground-
strong and stable.

It grows,
your heartstring and mine:
curled and knotted,
intertwined infinitely.
Almost one.

The world tries to make love binary,
shove it into a straight, rigid line.

But we are in the spaces
between the lines.

I love you
like the scribbles of a child.
From the start,
our roots were wild
but love filled the white space.

Our page is not empty.
There are no parallel lines.
We are color, solid and
vibrant.

We are too bright
for a black and white world.
They stare at us with sore eyes.

And we run.

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Love lines

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