this language

we say we love and when asked why
or how, we try not to swallow
our own tongues and choke on words
disguised as reasons.
we hope not to break promises
clasped between fingers entwined,
between the space of a kiss
separated by our breaths.

we say we love and we feel it, chemical.
but this yearning to define
consumes us more than bodies
taking in each other, like wildfire
spreading too soon onto dry grass,
leaving only parched earth
and that burnt smell.

we know not the language of what
we claim we feel
but this we profess:
we love, giving all things beautiful;
we love like we live
and that is enough.