Love is a place

"For happiness (...) isn’t being loved; that was just a slightly nauseous satisfaction of vanity. Happiness is loving and perhaps seizing a few short illusory moments of intimacy with the object of one’s love"

Thomas Mann

A Aute. In memoriam



Love is a harbour
Off the main land
Which links islands.
Might you arrive
Attuning your sails,
Yielding to the wind.
Love is a place
Where you spread
Your seeds and hope
For the rain to fall.
Love is a rendez-vous
Out of choice
Subject to will
And entire surrender.
Love is a dream,
A wishful thinking
Where you run into
The perfect stranger
In sheer recognition
Devoid of pride.
Not a fairy tale
With a happy end.