Life · Love

Conversations with my little sister.

As she dangles on the kitchen counter she asks, “What is Love?”
A girl, who will be turning sixteen next month
But pretty much still a girl to me,
With a curious heart and hormones that could probably fly her off a cliff,
She looks right at me and asks me the one question I was always afraid she would ask
I look at her and see how innocent her soul is at that very moment
A naive spirit with so much “Love” to look forward to.
Nearly sixteen but much taller than our mother
A tall dark brown beauty that I did not see coming five years ago
She asks me such a sensitive question
With an open heart and fairy tale emotions attached to it
With such amount optimism in her brown eyes
She asks me to know the truth,
Thinking I hold the answers to the puzzling quest that is love,
Never knowing that my ex will be getting married in little over three days from now
to a girl he met in Italy,
at a bar that only served local wine.
That my best friend’s mum could be pregnant with one of her daughters ex-boyfriend’s son!
Or that one of my friends could possibly be in love with a man that is already in a relationship.
I wonder, should I tell her the truth?
That the back of her hand might be the same color as all the other races
But that some people do consider race and religion as a basis.
Should I tell her that life in the real world is not always black and white,
And that that little boy she is saving up for might not be hers to keep
Just like the barbie doll I bought her over six year ago,
The one she had to give away to charity later on that summer!
Should I tell her that love is not always kind,
That it will swallow you whole like the whale that swallowed Jonah,
That they only love you when they best think your worthy of love,
But will later on leave you after you have cut the crust off their bread,
and will later on fed their egos with silhouette images of what they think you should be,
What should I tell her,
With her big heart and wide brown eyes
Mirroring my heart at sixteen,
With an illuminating sound track that possibly could not be “it”,
If only she would know that I would reach across the universe
Search the constellations,
For a star that fit her rigid heart,
And dress her overly active emotions in a fancy dress and pumps,
and her future love in a perfectly fitted suit and tie,
Giving lover systematic rhythm and a sound poetic soul to match her naive ways,
So that when she asked me what LOVE is,
I would tell her, “It’s magic and reality infused in one human feeling”.


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