Love is never simple, loving is,
For, she never speaks of love, she just does,
She has no constructs, no walls, no notions of right or wrong,
Like an empress, who gracefully gives and seeks no glory,
Loving refers to no book of love,
She’s quiet too, like the time of dusk, when the winter sun is slipping away,
In the frail shadow of twilight, under a heightened sky, she shies like a bride,
‘Take’, she says, ‘take all I have’.
