Love of heart,
Love of feeling.
Always love,
Never forget the true meaning of love.
As it's part of our lives,
It could change it for the better.
Our minds are free.
Always think about love.
Love of others,
The true one.
The one that is in our hearts,
We know more than anything.
The ones we want to continue our lives with.
We want to get old next to each other.
The ones that we will say I love you in their ears each day.
The ones that we will kiss and hug with limitless love.
This is the true meaning of love.
About the Creator
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
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