What would you say,

if I told you

I do not believe in love?


If something can’t be seen,




or measured,

does it exist?


There are chemical reactions,


that fact that my biology loves the smell of someone else’s.

Does that mean I love them?


There is instinct.

The drive to protect one’s child at all costs…

Unless the child does something

that turns it off

and makes their mother

turn her back against nature.


There is desire.

The burning to have and to hold another.

Is this love?

The longing to plumb someone’s depths?

What happens when we get to the bottom?


Do we hold our breath?


Can we swim in their waters

without ever wishing

we had made our home in

an ocean

a lake

the rapids



I do not believe in love;

I am not naive.

I know what I feel

I know what pushes me

I know what I have committed to

and I know what cuts me



If there is such a thing,

I want to see it.

I want to touch it or taste it.

I want it to exist

to be measurable,





It is not; isn’t.

It slips through our fingers.

We create it, then dissolve it.

Say “I love you,” then

“I don’t love you anymore.”


I believed in you once;

I do not believe in you now…




2 Comments on “But”

  1. ekidon says:

    Reblogged this on BDSM -Ties That Bind or Break Us and commented:
    I love you babygirl.

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