What Love Does to My Mind

a villanelle by Destiny

Maybe love, maybe not.

But if not love, then why did those glistening  crystal eyes say hello from the start?

Maybe I’m just tying my brain into knots?

 

Maybe love, maybe not.

But if love, then why can’t the clock that in years separates maturity please restart?

If I continue thinking clever my brain will clot.

 

Maybe love, maybe not.

But if not love, why do two hearts destined to clash now can’t stay apart?

If I continue thinking clever my brain will get hot.

 

Maybe love, Maybe not.

But if love, why is it so confound as if we’re stuck in a swirling op art?

If I continue thinking clever my brain will drop.

 

Maybe love, maybe not.

If only you can fix my mind with your smooth voice whispering in my ear, “Sweetheart.”

If I continue thinking about love my brain will rot.

 

Maybe love, maybe not.

Maybe I’m just tying my brain into knots?

Whichever the answer may be, in the end I don’t care about my brain being fraught

Because true love is marked by chances not by acting smart.

Destiny is a junior.  She says, “This poem is not only about me but about everyone who has fallen in love and had the same repetitive questions.”

 

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