L’amour gênant

L’amour gênant
Love should not apologise
For being!

It should walk tall and proud,
not hide its face beneath fedoras and sunglasses
nor play cloak and dagger.
It must hold its head high and bare its chest to the world.

Love should not be scolded, told to behave.
It must breathe organically; for it is as natural as raindrops dancing on rooftops;
as gentle as sunrise flirting with autumn leaves; as unique as snowflakes skipping through the air.  It should show its face!

Love is bold and awkwardly shy; opportune yet inconvenient, but it is pure.
It is not to be silenced by virtual flicks of a switch, stealthy strokes of a pen or electronic finger swipes.
It cannot be chastised, told to take time-outs or to crawl under carpets.
It refuses to be brushed aside like irrelevance or nuisances buzzing in the air.

Love is patient and overzealous; but not some tiresome bookends or loose paragraphs hanging off the pages of an unfinished novel.
It always writes its own stories. It contradicts, tosses curve balls and tangles the heart’s feet until you fall, completely, as it should be.

Love wears sartorial elegance, yet it is childishly untidy,
But not to be sanitised and ordered.
Love does not understand the when, the why, the where and to whom to submit.  It jealously guards a unique rhythm and follows its own beat.
Love is kind and stubborn. It refuses advice on who to love, where to travel and for how long. It often loiters after dark, tangoes with tall glasses of wine, then wakes up early, thirsty, hungry for life.

Love is a magician with poor timing. Its presence is unscripted, unexpected, uninvited.
It seeks simplicity yet invites complications. It shuns boundaries and rejects pigeonholes.
Love hurts….sometimes deeply; still it is quick to confound and incapacitate.
Love isolates and binds; is fleeting yet eternal.
It births memorable moments, and conjoins unfamiliar hearts to let them soar.

Hence
Love must never apologise
for being….