Love is not Brittle

True love, I find, is not brittle,
but bends with time;
can be a hammer wielded by gods
or a lover’s pillow;
may be spoken in prose, blank verse,
or, of course, be rhymed.

Love itself is needful,
responds to any weakness it finds;
may be cruel or kind,
but is generally thought an enigma.

To read love's signs,
move back to achieve a clear focus,
take a breath, note signs,
and carefully consider criteria.

Except no one living does that!

It’s a headfirst dive
or you’re tossed alive in the pool.
It’s assumed you’ll swim,
and, of course, you do,

but you also know it’s not you.
It’s your hormones locking
in a way that cuts off your breath:
you’re not even breathing.

What it is you’re meeting
is something forever new;
a something you are driven to do
and you have no clue.