Love is alive. Desiring to be known, to be understood, to be accepted. Love wonders why you shy away when it's at its worst, yet will comb the earth to find it at its best. Sometimes Love forgets that we're only hu-man and all those highs and lows make us queasy. You can't sleep, you can't think. It devours you. This book of poems puts into words what Love itself cannot say:
"I am cruel and I am kind."
"I'm only weak because I'm bruised."
"I see the way you look at me."
"I'm everywhere. Yes, even in those D'Orsay Choos."