Definitions
and love is watching honey drizzle slowly back into the jar
Love may be the light pollution giving way to be able to stargaze
and love is also sharing the last chocolate coin
Love is brushed fingers when taking your change
and love is apparent in a baby’s dimpled smile and a twenty-five-year-old’s protruding ears
Love is found in the cracks of the sidewalk you purposely avoid when you’re young
and love is most definitely the crumpled pieces of paper by the trash bin
Love is the tangling of thumbs, calluses embracing
and love fizzes like CO2 up to the bottle’s rim
Love is stored in tin cans of remaining wall paint on a warped shelf
and love is the sound of wheels on the tarmac
Love is a tattered book with pages 89, 90, 91, 92 missing
and love is in the feeling of band-aids with ointment on a bloody knee
Love is sneaking out in the hour of the owl’s chorus
and love makes your humerus and radius and ulna and every phalange have a seizure
Love is held in the sight of a mother who sees palm-sized socks
and love is undeniably your very own shadow
Love is a bee sting, we tell everyone it happened
because love, for sure, is the words “I’m happy you’re here”
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Malia Barto is a senior pursuing a Baccalaureate of Arts in Journalism and Communications and a minor in Justice.