Love asks the Question?

There you stand
right before me
all calm and collective like always,
while I on the other hand
have fear trembling inside my soul
piercing against my ribs.
I wander what you are thinking
as your eyes never leave my own
healing my pain with your spirit.
You whisper softly in my ear
Telling me all the things
I desperately want to hear.
Is this what I want?
To be loved by someone as perfect as you?
I sometimes wander if I am afraid of the very word?
If so, am I made to love?

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